


everything about ben

by pinkishsailor



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Ben is an asshole, Cute, Fluff, Gay, High School, How Do I Tag, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, ben doesn't have a sexuality, developing feelings, ice hockey, joe is a closeted gay, joe is soft, we love that - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkishsailor/pseuds/pinkishsailor
Summary: joe, quiet and reserved, gets more than he bargains for when the ice hockey team's captain, and resident asshole, develops a sudden and unprecedented interest in him.





	1. Chapter 1

as soon as joe gets to school, it's suddenly blatantly obvious that something is different. something has changed. he picks his way through the turmoil, heart racing violently under his woollen sweater, because it's obvious that something has either gone terribly wrong or horribly right. there's people everywhere - half dazed into a panic and pushing into each other.

he sees rami at the top of the stairs, eyeing the havoc from the front steps of the school. he's not far from the crowd, and from observation, it appears that rami has only just made his yet way through it himself, as he gives joe a plaintive look as they near each other. rami's a theatre geek, and for the past month has been thirsting over lucy boynton, the prettiest girl in school, who's conveniently serial dating everybody on the football team.

"what the heck is going on?" joe squeaks, wincing as his eyes catch on two people exchanged in a riotous brawl, one sporting a dark purple eye, and the other shaking his wrist about, as if to regain sensitivity in that area.

"i have no clue," rami replies, shaking his head in disbelief. "it hasn't been like this before."  
they watch for a few more seconds until they're clapped on the back and of course. gwilym.

gwilym's a tall, skinny lad of about six foot who spends most of his time in the music workshops or reading some dramatic literature piece he found in the library. when he's not doing either of those things, he's with joe and rami, and they go to the park or the cinema. most of the time they eat down benny's burgers, but on the small occasions they don't, then gwilym debuts his questionable cuisine skills, eventually presenting them with some questionable looking meals.

"how are you guys?" gwil says, looking between them. "think there's some debate going on today."

gwilym's more british than a scone, but has been living in the states for longer than time can tell. it's always a fun game to pick on gwilym for not losing his english accent after living across the pond for so long.

"really?" rami questions. "they don't seem to be debating." he pointedly watches. 

gwil quietens down after that, and they stand for a few moments before turning to walk inside, satchels slung over their shoulders and away from the chaos.

they find out the reason for all the chaos in that week's whole school presentation. all three of them are sat in a row together, eagerly waiting for the principal to say anything about the situation. they're not the only ones; people are whispering behind them, in front of them. everybody wants to know.

the presentation starts off as expected, the normal good mornings and expectations for the semester. everything is as it seems.

"there was a cacophony of disarray in the front yard of the school this morning," the principal says with her eyebrows raised. "the school board aren't entirely sure of the motives of this fight but can we advise you to please keep fighting to a minimum."

"but what was the fight about?" rami murmurs gruffly from the left of joe. 

"some of you may have heard," she continues. "herewood ice hockey team have excelled this season, but the majority of them are young and have some studies to complete. as they're on the road a lot of the time, they're going to need to complete certain exams, so we granted them permission to study here for a few months."

there's a sudden rise in the chatter in the room, changing from a subtle whispering into a full-scale din. 

"we know this hasn't been easy for some students," the principal continues uneasily. "change isn't something we're familiar with here, but we hope you can grasp this change and move on from it in a diligent and respectable manner."

the girl behind them even scrapes back her chair and stalks out of the room, head hanging dismally. joe turns to look, as well as a few other students, but the majority of them are staring agasp at each other, shocked at the news.

"i don't get it," joe murmurs. "what's so bad about this?"

gwil shakes his head. "they're the most arrogant team in the spotlight right now. they're spiteful and most of them have girls clinging to their arms every day of the week."

"guess i'll just stay out of their way, then," joe says rationally, crossing one foot over the other. no sports team could harm him as he does nothing to get in anybody's way.

"they're nasty people," rami adds. "whatever or whoever hereford ice hockey team wants, they get."

"do the ice hockey team mind coming onto the stage and introducing themselves to the school?" the principal says after joe zones back into reality, holding out the microphone in the general direction of where they're supposedly sitting their spoiled little asses. 

people hold their breath as there's a creaking off chairs, and a group of about six or seven lads stand up, clad in skinny jeans and leather jackets - the average 17 year old boy. they walk towards the stage among the racket, seemingly unaffected by the apparent whispering. they remain stony-faced, a few of them even have the remains of a smirk pulled onto the corners of their lips

they're high-cheekboned and long legged, all seeming to hold the same posture as they gather at the front of the stage, eyeing the wide-eyed assembly hall.

"it's a pleasure to have you boys representing the tournament for us," the principal says, desperately trying not to appear slightly nervous at their presence.

one of them steps forward, blonde and broader than the others, and something ticks in joe's neck. something twists in his stomach. he doesn't like it. the boy's arms are folded so it's apparent to see his huge biceps and the egotistic look in his eye. joe despises it - he already despises the way everybody reacts to them like they're a famous rock band. he hates the way this boy looks into the audience and catches his eye along the rows of people. he hates it so much that he almost wishes his eyes would fall upon him.

"the pleasure is all ours," the boy says, but his voice is so deep that joe decides he sounds like a man. it rumbles all over the hall and it's what the higher tier english students would call sonorous. he's british too, and it surprises joe at the sudden lack of a curl of the lip and the steady drawl of the american accent. the boy's good at public speaking. he goes off on some tangent about the team before he takes a breath and his eyes flicker to the audience. "you'll be seeing a lot of us. i hope." he adds this a beat after the end. it's a final statement and there's a resounding silence. the boy must know he already has the whole school wrapped around his little finger.

it echoes in joe's brain long after the boy's pursed his pink lips and turned back to the team, giving them a self satisfied smirk, and joe can't help but follow his eyes along the boy as they troop off stage, lazily sitting back down into their chairs. their long legs extend through the chairs in front, and they're so relaxed about it that joe feels angry. the blonde lad's in the centre, chewing on some gum and talking with a smirk to the boy next to him. joe tries to drag his eyes away but he can't.

"why are you staring at them?" rami drawls. "they'll just notice you and try to lure you into their spell."

joe scoffs, wrapping his arms around himself. "they wouldn't notice someone like me."

"you never know." rami says this with a sense of finality, and the conversation is over. so is weekly presentation.


	2. Chapter 2

the havoc doesn't end. it only gets worse. every day joe walks to school, the hallways are angry and he doesn't like it. people talk in hushed whispers when the team walk past in their little union, the tall and broad blonde boy at the front with his hands in his jacket pockets. they don't look at anybody around them - staying smugly stony faced as they go about their lives.

joe closes his locker, heart thumping, because getting involved with people like them could be the most dangerous thing to happen to him. 

slowly, day by day, hereford ice hockey team take over the school bit by bit. their relaxed propaganda almost goes unnoticed, until rami wants to use the performance hall for his solo drama practice.

joe accompanies him, because the school's still huge and unfamiliar, and gwilym's in the library, which is all the way down the other end of the school. he'd look dumb hanging out by himself anyway.

"what is this for?" joe questions as they walk towards the drama hall. 

rami’s been doing theatre since he was a kid, always auditioning for some musical or local play. it's been his lifelong dream to be an actor or make something of himself, whereas joe would rather go to college, university and study something quietly. he doesn't want the limelight.

"just my audition tape for hamilton," rami replies. "plus, lucy is auditioning too, and if she sees me then she might talk to me."

so, it's not about the passion anymore. it's about the girl. 

"ah." joe says this with a smile before cheekily nudging the dark haired lad. "this is to impress her."

rami gasps. "no!" his eyebrows furrow. "this is just so she'll notice me."

"same thing," joe tuts. "you can't get distracted by girls in this economy. they're too powerful."

they laugh, before they push open the door to the drama hall. it's a big room, old and tired with a stage and a drum riser in the centre. rami's been in here most days of his high school life, whereas joe has a little less, seeing as he joined later in the year.

so of course it's a big shock to both of them when they turn their heads to the stage and there's a gaggle of about seven lads lounging over the stage, what suspiciously looks to be packs of cigarettes lying at all of their feet. oh. the ice hockey team.

and when joe adjusts his eyes, yes. blonde boy from the other day's presentation is sat on the drum riser, above the others, leaning up against the bass drum. he's lighting a cigarette, lips clamped together around the unlit fag as he flicks the lighter. 

all seven of them pause as the door creaks shut behind the two boys. two of them sit up, pulling their cigarettes away from their lips and smirking at each other. 

joe can feel his heart thudding throughout his veins. "can we leave?" he whispers to rami. "they're not going to move if we ask them."

blonde boy swings his legs off the drum riser, standing up so he's his full height. the other lads eye each other as he climbs off the stage and walks towards them, cigarette still clamped between his lips.

as he nears them, rami grips joe's hand so hard that he nearly loses circulation. blonde boy's a few feet away when he stops, plucking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling, blowing smoke across the two boys' faces. joe closes up his throat to stop himself from coughing. 

"can i help you?" the boy says after a few seconds, his stance screaming authority. joe's too scared to talk to or even look the enigma in the eye, eyes falling to his shoes where he notices his laces are undone, but he's too frozen to bend down and re-tie them.

neither of them speak, so blonde boy continues. "i don't reckon any of you came to ask for a fag, huh?"

rami shakes his head hurriedly, letting go off joe's wrist to shakily speak up. "just w-wanted to, um, practise. but you're here, so never mind," he says, already turning away himself and joe to leave.

"we hang out here," one of the other lads says, tall and skinny with high cheekbones and grey eyes. "you might want to, you know, fuck off and never come back here."

"yes, of course," rami gasps, hurriedly picking up his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. blonde boy is still eyeing them from a few feet away, cigarette back between his rosy lips. he changes his weight onto one of his feet. 

"let's go, joe," rami hisses.

"wait," says the resonant voice.

they both turn around and it's blonde boy, but he's not looking at them. he exhales a breath of smoke and looks down at joe's shoes. "your laces are undone, sweetheart."

joe realised he's being spoken to after a delay of a few seconds, head shooting up and eyes widening. "yes," he mumbles at the blonde boy. "thank you."

there's a twinkle in blonde boy's eye but it's not friendly, it's malicious and vindictive. and as joe turns away, the boy gives him a look that joe knows the exact meaning of, he just can't put it into words.

as they leave, blonde boy turns back to the rest of the team with a grin on his face. "number twenty one," he says, a satisfied smirk on his lips because, at the end of the day, what's done is done.

*

benny's burgers is full by the time joe, gwilym and rami have arrived. people are sat at tables everywhere, chattering inaudibly and sipping the renowned milkshakes. by the time they have a table it's half seven and joe knows he should be home soon or his mother will have something to say.

"so me and joe had an interesting run in with the ice hockey team," rami says, taking a sip of his milkshake and wiping his lip with the back of his hand.

gwilym nearly chokes on his burger. "what?"

joe's eyes widen and he picks at the candy on the side of his sundae glass. the last thing he needs is a lecture from gwilym.

"we were trying to get access to the drama hall, but they were in there, smoking cigarettes," rami explains. "smelt smoky and nasty in there anyway."

"what, and they spoke to you?" gwil says, eyebrows furrowed. 

"yes-" rami starts, but the waitress has appeared at their table, holding four strawberry milkshakes. she smiles as she places them on the table. "and four milkshakes for you boys."

"um," gwilym says, gesturing at themselves. "we didn't order those."

the waitress scratches her head, appearing puzzled at the miscommunication. "i'll be right back."  
she leaves before they can confuse each other anymore.

"what were you saying beforehand, rami?" gwil says, taking one sip of the old milkshake and another from the new one.

"ah, yes." rami says. "me and joe tried to leave but they basically just told us to go away and never come back."

"honestly, guys," gwilym says. "don't get involved with them. once they notice you then they won't leave you alone, honestly." gwilym's dubbed the sensible one; the one that gets them out of situations and reminds them of the ground their feet should be firmly planted to.

joe nods, biting the straw in between his teeth and eating another piece of candy stuck to the side of the glass. 

the waitress returns again, slightly out of breath and appearing a little tired. "these milkshakes are definitely for you guys," she says. "my colleague says they were ordered under your table number."

joe gives gwilym a worrying look, while rami speaks up. "this must have been a mistake," he says calmly. "can you transfer these back?"

"we might as well keep them," joe whispers. "i'm guessing they're free." he takes a sip of his own milkshake.

the waitress sighs. "i'll get my colleague."

"this doesn't happen here," gwilym says after they're left alone once more. "someone must have just ordered their drinks to our table by accident."

another waitress comes over to their table, smiling at them, even with a worried look in her eye. "i'm sorry about the mix up with your drinks," she says. "i would transfer these back but we can't do anything with old drinks apart from put them in the bin, so just drink them."

they thank her graciously, pulling the drinks towards them as if they hadn't already taken a sip from the glass before she returned.

"i thought the guy who ordered these was with you," she says. "he didn't look like any of you three."

"what do you mean?" joe says, frowning. he's confused now. why would somebody order drinks to their table?

"the guy who ordered these drinks," she says. "blonde haired, sorta greenish eyes. i thought he was with you boys."

"is he still here?" gwilym asks, trying to peer around the counter to see if the unknown boy was still in the building, but he was unable to see around all the heads and moving bodies.

"i don't think so," the waitress says. "i'd take it as a compliment though. free drinks, huh?"

she leaves them with a smile and two milkshakes each. rami gives joe a knowing look once she's out of earshot. it's true that rami is the 'suspecting' member of the group, always completely positive that some conspiracy is true, or something relates to them when it surely doesn't.

"joe, do you think-" he starts, but joe shuts him down, waving a hand and laughing it off. 

"of course not," he chuckles, sipping some of his milkshakes. "probably just a mistake, i guess."

gwilym rolls his eyes at them. "are you guys kidding me?"

"what?" they question at the same time.

"you've already caught the ice hockey team's interest?" he says, almost sounding mad. "it's been two days."

rami laughs nervously. "don't be paranoid, gwil," he says.

"they'll lose interest soon," joe says tactlessly, hoping to the skies that this really isn't happening to him and rami. "soon enough they'll find somebody else to buy drinks for."

"you've clearly never seen any of ben hardy's quick fucks, joe," gwilym says, rolling his eyes. "he doesn't just give up after two days."

"who's ben hardy?" joe questions quizzically, eyebrows raised. he's clearly missing out on something here. being at a school for only three months leaves him with a lot of unanswered questions.

"team captain," rami says. "biggest asshole of them all. the one that blew his disgusting white boy smoke all over me."  

oh, joe thinks. "oh."

"are you not even worried?" the tallest hisses, but joe's not entirely there. "they can ruin somebody's reputation just like that." gwilym snaps his fingers to prove his point.

"why do the school let them study here?" joe questions. "surely if they were such a big threat, they'd be banned from every school."

"well," rami pipes up. "their propaganda is subtle. they don't unjustifiably start fights or do anything out in the open. last year, at another school, they quietly blackmailed half of the girls in the building without a single professor noticing."

joe swallows a suddenly apparent lump in his throat. 

"plus," gwilym adds. "if the team wins a lot of games then the school gets credit for that."

"trust me, joe," rami adds. "we need to stay as far away from ben hardy and his little tribe as we possibly fucking can."

and that, as it seemed, was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

hereford ice hockey team are everywhere.

joe knows there's nothing he can do. he twists the knob on his locker, wrenching it to the right number before it pings open, squeaking harshly down the echoing strip of the science lab hallway. he turns to see if anyone has witnessed his humiliation, but the hallways are quiet apart from the few kids sitting cross-legged on the ground by their lockers, reading some book they've been set for homework.

a note flutters out, hasty scribble on yellowing paper which falls to the ground by his feet. joe crouches down to pick it up, scrunching the paper between his fingers to take hold of it, before straightening himself and leaning against the cool metal of his locker to unfold the softened edges,

 _'did you enjoy the milkshakes?'_ it reads, and joe can almost feel the smirk through the artful squiggle of handwriting.

_'you're cuter than your friend.'_

joe crumples up the paper in haste, cramming it down the awkward gap between his locker and the wall, before hurriedly turning to face the hallway, heart racing a mile a minute. _this is too much now_. looking up and down, it's still clear and there's nobody who looks suspicious enough to hide notes in his locker. the ice hockey team aren't stupid enough to hide in plain sight. who is he kidding?

*

the bathroom door squeaks open as joe pushes it, and he keeps his hands away from the handle because he knows half the boys in the school don't wash their hands.

it's empty, which is a relief, because the last thing joe wants is to run into one of the druggies snorting coke off the sideboards or the popular kids who jack off into the sinks. during his lifetime he's had his fair share of nasty encounters with nasty boys.

leaning up at the basin, he stands onto his tiptoes so he can see his full reflection. he looks mournful and his reflection apologetically stares back, silently giving him the exact same treatment. his hand reaches up to his auburn curls, dragging his hands through it as if that would drastically improve its appearance.

his reflection opens its cowardly mouth and tells him he looks ugly and sad and tired. joe doesn't argue.

"rude of you to screw up my note," says a deep voice out of the silence, and it's so sudden that the smaller boy jumps back, knocking his elbow on the corner of one of the cubicles. it burns and freezes, swelling up his arm but he's frozen in one position, unable to tend to his arm. "i thought it was monumental."

ben eyes him from the door, clad in black skinny jeans and a red hoodie. joe swallows, picking up his phone and placing it into his pocket. he's nervous, shaking as he leans against the basin as if to appear nonchalant, but he says nothing, so ben continues.

"thought you would've at least thanked me for the milkshakes," the broader boy remarks, raising his eyebrows. "took time out of my day to do that."

"s-sorry," joe whispers, dodging eye contact. "thank you." his eye flickers from the floor to his hands to ben's hand and the cigarette between his long fingers.

"you're very welcome," ben says, walking towards him so they're no less than four feet apart. it's silent apart from the steady hum of the school's central heating ringing in his ears. "sweetheart." he adds this, almost as an afterthought.

"you're not allowed to smoke in here," joe says in a tiny voice, eyeing the wispy curls of smoke escaping from the tip of the fag. ben eyes him in response, bringing the cigarette up to his lips.

joe immediately regrets speaking up, because ben pulls the stick of cancer from his crimson lips and leans over to stub it against the smooth white of the basin, just missing joe's arm. the tip of it glows red for a second before it burns out. the smaller boy jumps as ben's arm retracts from his side.

"you're tense," ben says amusedly, pushing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "do i scare you?"

joe's embarrassed, cheeks flushing fire and cherry red, because _no_. of course he's not scared. why would he be scared? "no."

ben laughs then, and it's practically beautiful because all joe's seen of him is this monotonous expression with no signs of any emotion, and now he's hanging out with him in the bathrooms and making him laugh, even though he's not really sure why.

"yes i do. you're shaking."

the blonde isn't lying, for joe's hands are quivering at the proximity of ben's arm to his. painfully, joe retreats his hand further away from ben's spontaneous movements.

"you're crazy," joe whispers, finally catching ben's eyes, and he's nearly blown away by the multitude of hazel green in ben's eyes. he nearly staggers backwards, heart wrenching. it's virtually sincere and joe can't believe his eyes.

"i get that one a lot," ben says with a smirk, and then he's standing up, shuffling and erasing the previous silence. "haven't you got class, pretty?"

joe's cheeks burn pink, heart stuttering and stomach churning inside him. the small compliment sends him skywards. _except he's not pretty._

"i got a bathroom pass," the smaller boy says softly, pushing himself off the wall and walking into the centre of the small room. ben's taller than him by a mile, broader too. everywhere joe is small, ben is not, and he hates it.

"shouldn't you be getting back to class?" ben comments, vision catching upon his. languidly, joe's eyes drift back and catch hold of ben's, lazily sweeping back to his feet. he's weak.

"yes." joe remembers his place. ben hardy could ruin his life in a split second, could take everything he loves between his thumb and first finger and drop it from a great height. joe's heard every story and been retold every tale.

_you don't mess with ben hardy._

_"_ i ought to get back," he swallows, nerves creeping up his throat again like a poison. in response, ben gives him a smile that's not really a smile, just a vague stretching of the lips into something resembling a nefarious grin. it's different to his sunny laugh, and joe's blood runs cold.

"see you later, joe," ben says, and as joe exits, he glances back into the bathroom where ben's lighting up another fag, leg hiked up onto the edge of a cubicle. a crumpled pack of cigarettes lies on the sink next to him, and just before the door swings closed, ben's eyes flicker up to meet with his.

it shuts, and joe wonders just how ben hardy is going to pass his exams at this rate.

*

gwilym and rami are already eating lunch when joe walks into the cafeteria. they give him a look before he sits down.

"you said you were going to be two minutes and you took ten," gwilym says, eyes drifting back to his chips. "where were you?"

joe sits down, lobbing his rucksack under the table and sitting down opposite them. "ben held me up again," he mutters. "he always seems to know where i am."

"of course," rami drawls. "he's not dumb. he wants you, so of course he knows where you are."

joe stops chewing, everything suddenly becoming a little more real. _shit._ "what?"

"i hate that you got yourself into this, joe," gwilym says with a sigh. "he's the most powerful person in the school and i don't want you involved in that."

joe bites the inside of his lip. he's screwed. turning around, it's unclear whether ben is in the room currently. maybe one of his team members is watching him from one of the other tables, doing ben's dirty work for him because being trusted by the hard-ass team captain is better than anything.

"i didn't want to be involved in this either," joe defends. "why do you sound like you're blaming me?"

"he's not blaming you," rami says tiredly. "just stay with us and we'll do our best."

"but i have..." joe trails off, gesturing at the double doors to the cafeteria. "i have a tutee."

gwilym raises a dark eyebrow. "since when do you tutor people?"

"since everyone's grades were dropping," joe says, a small smile sliding into his pretty features. "you both could do with some tuition too, so maybe you can come with me."

"joe," rami says, suddenly serious. "this isn't a lame joke. you know how he emotionally blackmails and manipulates everybody he becomes interested in. you can't just run away to a room and hope that he doesn't find you, because he will."

gwilym puts his head in his hands. "you're honestly so screwed."

"i feel a lot better, thanks guys," joe snaps, throwing his chips back onto his tray and grabbing his bag lying under the table. "that really helped."

"i'm trying to help, joe!" rami says. "i know you're upset about this, but you have to realise that the more you speak to him, the more he becomes obsessed with you."

"as far as i'm aware," joe says in a small voice, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "you were the one that begged me to tag along to the drama room the other day, rami."

and with that, joe leaves the cafeteria on his own, and he doesn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow bitch i wrote this in like half an hour where's my award


	4. Chapter 4

joe finds himself outside the sports hall, leaning up against the cool brick of the exterior. he didn't bring a coat to school today and he mentally curses himself when the wintery breeze drifts over his skin like a reminiscent hug. he's cold. crouching down and wrapping his arms around his body, he feels his lip tremble and his vision fog as tears pool in his eyes. joe hates fighting with his friends.

he wishes he could go back into the cafeteria and give rami and gwilym a hug and tell them he's sorry for yelling, but he's too proud to even think about getting up and walking back into school.

he wipes his eyes with his sweater's sleeve before exhaling shakily and letting his eyes drift along the field. there's a few kids on the football pitches in brightly coloured vests, yelling at each other for the ball, and about three people on the basketball court without their shirts on. it's february.

then, joe turns and he notices a familiar head of blonde hair leaning against one of the big oak trees in the grounds, accompanied by another guy about the same height. they're clearly smoking, because their hands reach up to their mouths every now and then, taking a drag of their cancerous cigarettes and exhaling the smoke into the air.

there's an off chance that ben doesn't know he's here, as he's tucked away on the other side of the sports hall with his hood over his messy auburn curls. ben might still think he's in the cafeteria, so joe has to be stealthy.

he tries to be casual, holding his phone up to his ear as if he's ringing somebody and walks towards the entrance to the sports hall. his heart thunders in his chest.

joe doesn't know why he thought it would work. he turns back just as he pulls the door open, and ben's turned around to face him from the tree, cigarette hanging between his lips and a frown between his brows.

shit. abort mission.

joe slams his way into the sports hall, heart racing as he pushes the door shut so hard that it locks. he panics, sprinting into the boys' changing rooms and leaning up against a wall that's hidden from view. his hands shake and he clasps them together, remembering what rami had said to him about speaking to ben causing him to become more obsessed. joe doesn't know why ben would want to be interested in somebody as boring as him. he's short and skinny and nondescript, plus there's so many gorgeous people who walk past him every day in school and ben doesn't give them a second glance.

joe's tutee is supposed to meet him in ten minutes in the library, which means he's got to somehow get back up to the main building without ben seeing him. it's a tricky challenge. 

joe's a liar. of course ben scares him. ben's unpredictable. ben's everywhere and nowhere at the same time and joe doesn't know how to deal with that.

his eyes drift to the tiny window on top of the sinks. they face the opposite way which means ben can't see him escaping. however, the window is high up and would require a jump from a good eight feet, and landing on two feet has always been a challenge for the younger boy.

he rules out the window.

does he just bolt through the door and sprint through ben's grip? is he even fast enough? maybe ben doesn't even care. maybe joe is overreacting.

the door suddenly slams open and ben's in the dimly lit changing rooms, lit cigarette reflecting against his angular jaw. he's changed his red hoodie to a dark blue jacket with his surname on the breast pocket, and joe would be lying if he didn't admit that he looked good.

"thought i might find you here," ben voices in the eerie silence of the changing rooms, exhaling a steady stream of smoke which infiltrates the cool air.

"leave me alone, please," joe tests out cautiously. he hangs onto the wall, heart racing disjointedly.

ben walks around the changing cubicles so he's directly facing joe. "did your little friends finally give you a talking to? did they tell you that i'm up to no good?"

joe quivers, clutching his sleeves which have fallen down over his small hands. he can't deal with this today. "yes," he says quietly. "and i believe them."

"that's understandable," ben answers, stubbing out his fag against one of the graffiti ridden walls of the changing rooms before it falls from his fingers. he lets the cigarette burn out on the floor. it's almost poignant, and joe watches with awe. "but you're not with them right now. why's that?" the blonde continues. 

joe fiercely wipes away a tear before it can fall down his cheek pathetically. he looks up at ben with his teeth gritted. "please leave. i don't want any trouble."

ben shakes his head, stepping closer to joe's cowering body. joe's tiny and his hoodie drowns him, raggedy hem falling to the top of his skinny thighs. joe almost thinks that ben might feel sorry for him, but he shakes off his idiocy like it's a coat.

"you been crying?" ben drawls, almost seeming like he cares for a split second before it's almost like he realises he's been too nice and forces his features back to a lifeless frown.

"no. no," joe replies, attempting to wipe his eyes inconspicuously with his sleeve, but quick as a flash ben grabs his skinny wrist with long fingers and looks him directly in the eye. joe nearly breaks his fragile shell at the forceful look in ben's muted green eyes.

"who."

"no one, honestly," joe begs with a sniffle. "i'm just being an idiot."

"there's got to be something," ben argues, tapping his boot clad foot. "you can't just be crying for no reason."

joe shrugs in response, realising that there's no reason for him to tell ben anything. ben's heartless and cold, and why would he care anyway? joe's not one of those people to automatically open up to others, preferring to stay inside his little shell where he knows everything is good and safe. joe's okay with that.

"did your little friends upset you?" ben questions, leaning up against the wall next to joe, so their shoulders brush together. joe's shoulder jerks away at the sudden contact and ben quirks an eyebrow at him. he chuckles as he lights up another cigarette. "you really are a jumpy little thing."

"look," joe says, breaking the silence and turning to face the bigger boy. his heart thuds uncomfortably beneath his sweater. he's never been good at confrontation . "i don't know what you want from me - i've heard the stories."

"that's very presumptuous of you, mazzello," ben says with a smile. "i'm just hanging out with you, right?"

joe's throat closes up. he doesn't know how to make ben go away. "ben, please. i don't want to be one of your..." he trails off.

"who said you were?" ben drawls with his lip quirked into a smile. his hand slides into his hoodie pocket and he hikes his leg up the wall opposite them. he's completely relaxed - at ease, while joe quivers uncomfortably against the wall.

joe doesn't reply so ben continues. "you're always so on edge, joseph. maybe you should liven up a bit." 

joe grits his teeth. he knows it's true - he's on edge, nervous, worrisome, always panicking. he hears it all the time, from all people. they tell him to 'cheer up' or 'smile a bit.' it gets old.

"did i touch a nerve?" ben teases. "sorry." joe almost can't believe his ears. ben's a dick. the blonde leans up against the wall so confidently with a smug smile tugging against his lips and expects everybody in the school to bow down to him.

“i have to go,” joe says hurriedly, pushing himself off the wall and avoiding eye contact with the bigger boy. he’s petrified.

“so soon?” ben says, pink tongue peeking out between his equally pink lips. “didn’t think you’d be that easily offended.”

“you are such a dick,” joe says, eyes watering pathetically. “they’re right about you.” he’s almost angry, fingers tensing uncomfortably as he turns away from ben’s steely gaze.

joe hates himself for crying in front of ben hardy. he really hates it. and what joe hates the most is that ben doesn’t even look the slightest bit sorry as joe turns on his heel and leaves the changing rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea why the paragraphs are so spaced out, but hope y’all enjoy :)
> 
> super rushed because i’m on holiday right now


	5. Chapter 5

there's another note the next day. joe's one of the first to arrive in school, corridors still chilly and the lights low at the end of the hallway. the note flutters out, similar to the last, and lands at joe's feet. he crouches to pick it up, almost a bit lightheaded as he unfolds the corners of the paper.

joe's almost angry as his eyes settle on the paper.

_you look nice today._

even though joe's cheeks flush a fiery red at the compliment, he forces his face back into a frown as he realises there's no mention or apology for ben's spiteful behaviour yesterday. hell, joe doesn't even know if ben _likes_ boys. this could all be some gigantic plot to make joe believe ben is interested in him, and then he's suddenly pushed out of the closet in front of everybody.

if joe's honest, he wouldn't put it past ben.

so joe scoffs, curls his hand so the paper scrunches beneath it and drops it down the side of his locker, hoping to _whatever_ is up there that ben didn't see him doing that. the last thing he wants is to talk to ben again.

joe suddenly notices the familiar head of dark tousled hair belonging to rami malek at his locker on the other side of the hallway, and he doesn't know what comes over him that makes him turn around and walk towards him, heart thudding.

"i'm sorry!" joe anxiously blurts out, causing rami to jump before closing his locker to face the smaller boy. "i didn't mean to upset you both yesterday."

rami gives him a warm smile. "it's okay, joe," he says, slouching an arm around his shoulder like old times and joe feels himself relax. "we all fucked up and got mad at each other. don't blame yourself."

joe smiles, but something is still missing. _where's gwilym?_

"gwilym," he finds himself saying. "where is he?"

just as he says this, he sees gwilym at the end of the corridor at his locker, looking a bit pained as he slings his rucksack to the ground and starts searching for something in his locker.

"be sensitive," rami says. "you know his sister was once part of ben's game, right?"

"what?" joe says. "he never told me." joe had noticed that gwilym's sister always seemed a bit closed off, bedroom door always shut and lips turned down slightly as she spoke to them. _ben can't have caused that, surely._

"she was his longest game," rami says gravely. "they lasted four months." and with that, joe starts to walk towards gwilym, pushing his rucksack further up his shoulder.

"gwil," joe says, throat tight and strangled as he stops at gwilym's locker. the taller lad stops, pushing his locker ajar and turning to face him. "i'm sorry if i treated the subject indelicately. hope you can forgive me."

gwilym's features stretch into a wide smile, bringing the smaller boy into his grip as he envelops him in a tight hug. "it's not your fault, joe."

joe sighs into the hug, tightening his grip around gwilym's arms.

"i just never thought it would happen to you," gwilym says conclusively.

*

they're in pe class when it happens. finishing his final lap, joe stumbles over to where everybody else is finishing. gwilym and rami are far behind him, wheezing like trains as they collapse onto the grass after him.

"how do you even run that fast?" rami says, from the ground and through choking breaths. joe gives them a beaming smile.

"smaller people are more streamlined," he remarks with a grin. joe's always been good at running, forever being entered into races and usually winning most of them.

their coach gathers them over, a tall and gangly man with a messy beard and round glasses. he's the complete antithesis of a stereotypical games teacher, but he's prepared joe for many running races which he's won, so joe guesses he's got to thank him.

"most of you still haven't written up your essays," the coach says once they're all present and lying on the ground. "even the ones that have written up their essays haven't included vital information and used the attitudes of the players."

the class shuffles, picking bits of the grass like kids from the prep school.

"that's why i'm taking us on a little field trip," he adds. "i think, to truly see the attitudes of players, you need to see them in action."

joe cranes his neck around so he can frown at rami and gwilym, who are still trying to find their breath. " _what is he on about?"_ he mouths at them, and they both shrug.

"we're going to watch the ice hockey," the coach concludes. a couple of the girls around them look a bit anxious, and he picks up on this. "you don't have to come if you don't want to, but i think it would be beneficial to your essays."

the class begins to uneasily chatter between themselves, getting up from the grass and walking into their little clusters. joe walks towards rami and gwilym, who look just as anxious as him.

"i'm not going," joe says, folding his arms. "i'm so done with _him_."

rami makes a noise of agreement. "me too. i am not going anywhere near that team or that rink." rami folds his arms and the gold of the sun almost sinks into his tanned skin.

"it's unsafe being involved with them," gwilym says quietly.

"mazzello?" the team captain calls him as they begin to walk towards the school. "where are you going?"

"you gave us a choice, coach," joe says, squinting in the morning sun. it's bright out, and the sun holds some sort of reminiscent flavour of summer that sweeps over their skin like a tan on an august day. it's almost perfect. too good to be true. "thought i'd finish my history coursework."

the coach stops, squinting back at him. "joseph, you're my best runner - you're three marks off a nine for this essay, and i think this would really help you."

joe feels sick to his stomach. he _can't_ see ben today. "coach, i really want to get that nine, but i can't come to the game."

"i'm disappointed in you, mazzello," he says, folding his arms. "i would've thought better of you."

"i'm tutoring people too," joe adds quietly. "i've got a  lot on my plate-"

"meet me at the gates in ten minutes," the coach says. "if you have stuff do to, then we won't watch the whole game, but i want you to at least watch it kick off."

joe's throat tightens. _fine._ "fine."

*

they're up in the stands as the february wind attacks them from all sides. joe pulls his woollen sweater further over his cold hands to keep as much heat as he can. the sun shines, but it's bitter.

there's about thirteen of them in a row, and joe's stuck next to his coach, who feels the need to point out every member of the opposing team.

"the red is us," he says. "white is opposition." joe nods to this, heart still racing and hands clasped together. at least they're relatively far back so ben can't see him.

although, as ben walks up to the edge of the ice rink, joe can just about make out the cocky grin on his face as he shoves into one of his teammates. ben turns to his mate so his back is towards the audience, and joe can make out 'hardy' written in red block letters over his jersey. joe feels sick.

they all get ready, skating effortlessly onto the expanse of compressed white ice. it's almost beautiful, and joe thinks this is probably the most calm ben hardy has ever looked.

"isaac pine from the opposition is a nutter," his coach says from his side, icy wind hindering his speech slightly. "read about him online. but still, no doubt that hardy will ruin him."

joe nearly wants to say _'he ruins a lot of things,'_ but he keeps his mouth shut, unsure of what would happen if ben found out he'd ratted them out.

"it's a shame," his coach continues after a pause. "hardy's such a smart lad, but he doesn't apply himself in academic lessons."

"oh," joe breathes, bitter air creating a cloud from his breath. he can't bring himself to feel sorry for ben hardy.

"i've heard his science grades are dropping every month," coach continues with a grimace. "it's not looking good for him."

joe doesn't reply, wrapping his arms around himself as the shrill whistle echoes in his ears. his eyes flicker downwards to where ben and pine are tackling each other, sticks intertwined as the puck slides around between their feet. ben wins it, grinning arrogantly as he slides it towards one of his teammates. he pushes forward on his skates, blocking pine's area subtly while controlling the rest of his team.

"watch how hardy takes it right from the opposition," his coach says, pointing at the defense. "you could write so much about this."

"this is going to end up as a love letter to ben hardy," joe says, rolling his eyes, and his coach laughs, slapping his shoulder.

"you said you did tutoring, hm?" the latter says after a few seconds of watching the game.

"yes," joe replies, just as ben assists a goal and almost breaks down, skating towards the guy who helped him get the goal and slapping him on the shoulder. the crowd screams in congratulations, standing up in their seats all around them and clapping. ben's hiding his pride but joe can tell by the smile on his face that he's pleased.

and it only takes a second, but one second later, ben hardy's smile is nowhere to be seen. the crowd subside back into their seats, chattering amongst themselves as ben gets his head back into the game. hereford's winning, but it might not be for much longer.

"maybe you should tutor him," his coach continues. they both watch his head of blonde hair as the game starts back up again. "he could do such great things if he put his mind to it."

"i'm already tutoring over ten people," joe argues uneasily. "i don't have any spare time."

"think about it," the elder replies, and then they're back into the game.

*

hereford wins. the team huddle into one another, slapping each other on the shoulders and then the game is over. the crowd stands up and everybody leaves, like they always do.

their class stands up to leave as well, chattering among themselves and collecting belongings. just as they're about to pass through the door and leave the ice rink, joe hears the voice he was dreading.

"didn't think you'd come, mazzello," says ben hardy, hair damp against his forehead and cheeks pink. "doesn't sound like your sort of field trip."

the rest of the class have walked through the door at this stage, probably on their way back to morning classes, but joe cannot escape.

"i've got to get back to class," joe breathes worriedly, pulling his sweater over his thighs. "congratulations on the win."

"so soon?" ben says. "was my note really that offensive?" he's cocky, opening a bottle of water and taking huge gulps from it, some dribbling obscenely down his chin which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

joe feels his face burn with anger, fists clenching. "you need to stop sending me those, _please_."

"but i like how your face goes pink when i compliment you," ben says, lip quirking. "pretty." he adds this on at the end, dropping his water bottle onto the ground and eyeing the smaller boy.

joe's face heats up again, and it's almost ironic as he covers his face with his hands. "it's embarrassing."

"nah, it's not," the latter says, patting his shoulder and letting his hand linger for a few seconds. "i'm glad you came."

"i didn't choose to come," joe says, smile fading as he realises the potential danger of this situation. "it's for my essay. i have to write about the players."

"writing an essay about me, mazzello?" ben jokes, slinging an arm around the younger boy's shoulder. "make sure you don't make up any lies about me."

"not just about you," joe says defensively. "i have to write about the goalie and the attack." he doesn't know why he's not walking away, running, sprinting from ben. he's scared.

"i can help you, if you want," ben drawls. "i know a shit ton about my players."

"i- i think it has to be solitary work," joe mumbles. "thank you though."

"you're very welcome, sweetheart," ben says with a smile, walking back towards the rink. the nickname forces joe's throat tighter and his face burns with pride.

"you wanna have a skate?" ben queries, putting his boots back on. the audience has almost completely gone now, just the odd few people in the stands chatting away.

joe feels sick again. he doesn't know if he wants to. he thinks about gwilym's sister, rhiannon, and then he looks at ben hardy's arrogant, angular face.

"i- i don't know," joe says quietly. "i don't think i can skate."

ben turns back to him, doing up his laces. "that's a shitty excuse, joseph."

joe pauses.

"i'll teach you to skate."

"i don't know if i have time," joe defends, pointing at the door. "i have- i have classes before break."

"i'll teach you at break then," ben says, finishing another water bottle. "it's fun."

joe's head is spinning and the sun is shining too much into his eyes. okay. _fine._ "fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so sorry ! i've wanted to write this but i've been so busy - hope this makes up for it ratties
> 
> but next chapter's going to be good and i'm already halfway through it fellow lesbians


	6. Chapter 6

joe sits on the floor in a musty corner of the library, rucksack over his knees and heart pounding nervously. he can't face rami and gwil now, as he doesn't know what they'd do if they found out what he was doing with ben instead of hanging out with them. plus, he can't argue with ben - he doesn't know what the bigger boy would do to him if he dared contradict anything he said.

he guesses he's hiding, back pressed uncomfortably against the uneven wall of books, one of the spines digging into the small of his back. joe also guesses he's trapped. figuratively and literally.

there's a few texts from gwilym but he doesn't bother opening them, instead stuffing his phone back into his pocket and waiting for the bell to ring, signifying the start of midday lessons. once it does, he stumbles onto two feet, hazily making his way out of the library and down onto the path that windingly leads to the ice rink. he pulls his hood over his tousled brown hair, hoping it makes him look more inconspicuous.

he slips through the back of the bleachers and underneath the benches, noticing ben as soon as he straightens himself up. he's on the ice rink, wearing a green hoodie and spinning himself around while grinning at somebody else on the rink. maybe if joe turned around and left now, then nobody would notice him.

it's a good try, but he doesn't get more than halfway to the door before ben's head snaps over to where he's walking. "joe," says a familiar voice and he freezes.

ben's at the edge of the ice, eyeing him with a glimmer in his eye. "you came," he adds. joe turns and walks towards the stretch of ice, that almost glitters unnervingly as he draws closer. similarly, ben seems more intimidating the closer he gets.

"i- i can't skate," joe defends when he's no less than five feet away from the blonde. "i'll probably fall over."

ben's leaning on the bar around the ice, and the corner of his lips twitches before he steps out of the rink, snapping a plastic guard onto the bottom of his skates. while he's doing this, his eyes flicker up and he looks at joe through his eyelashes. "you're nervous."

"i'm not nervous," joe says pathetically, taking off his shoes as if he's at ease.

"whatever you say, pretty," ben replies, straightening up so he's his full height, pretty much towering over the smaller boy. "we should get you some skates."

joe realises ben is holding his hand out to him, and he takes it hesitantly, letting the blonde boy lead him away from the rink and into a sheltered part of the building. ben's hands are huge and warm, and they almost encase the entirety of joe's smaller ones. it almost makes joe feel a little lightheaded as he looks down and notices the difference in the size of their hands.

joe notices a huge wall of skates as they arrive. there's a bored-looking blonde girl manning the desk next to it, wearing headphones, and ben approaches her, dragging joe along behind him.

"what size are your feet?" ben says, hand squeezing at joe's shoulder.

"eights," joe replies, lump in his throat. "b-but sometimes i can wear a nine."

ben leans over the desk, pulling one of the earphones out of the girl's ear. she frowns, ripping them both out of her ears and turning to face them. "what do  _you_  want, benjamin?" she says in an accusatory voice.

"i want some skates," ben says, unaffected by the girl's rude tone. "in eights."

"where are your manners?" she says, nevertheless turning to the wall of skates and pulling out a blue pair. she slams them onto the counter. "your feet are twelves anyway," she adds.

"they're not for me," ben says, nodding his head towards joe, who cowers uncomfortably at their heated conversation.

her head turns to where joe is standing, her eyes automatically softening, and appearing a lot friendlier. "oh," she says softly, giving joe a smile and handing him the boots.

joe thanks her in a small voice, gripping onto the skates between his fingers and laying them down on the floor behind him.

"i'm ellen," she says, reaching a manicured hand out for joe to shake, and he obliges.

"joe," the smaller boy adds.

she tuts at ben. "ignore ben, he's a huge wanker ninety percent of the time."

ben gives her the finger before walking to the edge of the rink to talk to one of his teammates, leaving joe and ellen at the counter.

"i'm not even joking," ellen adds once he's out of earshot. "don't let him win you over."

"i tried," joe says, "but he gets what he wants."

"i'll have words with him," ellen says. "you're the sweetest one he's had for a long time, though." she reaches over and ruffles the tousled waves of his hair.

"i'm not his-" joe starts, but ellen laughs, swinging her legs over the counter and sitting opposite him.

"i'd tell him that, if i were you," she adds, picking up the boots and untying the dirty laces. she holds the first boot out to him while she unties the other.

"have you known each other for a while then?" joe questions as he slips his foot inside the boot. he turns his head to watch as ben playfully shoves one of his teammates over onto the rink. the guy's back cracks against the ice and joe winces.

"he's my rat of a brother," ellen says with an eye-roll. suddenly it all makes sense. the same lips, eyes, laugh, mannerisms. joe doesn't know how it didn't click earlier. "was born ten minutes before me and has never stopped lording it over me."

joe finishes putting his final boot on, and wobbles a little before standing up straight. "it was nice talking to you, anyway," he says with finality, wobbling over to where ben's standing with four or so other lads. the blonde boy gives joe a smile as he walks towards them. patting the other lads on the shoulder, he leaves their conversation and joins joe.

"they fit alright?" ben says, eyeing joe up and down. the smaller boy nods, reaching down to pull the guards from his skates. ben does the same but a lot faster and twirls backwards onto the rink. joe, heart racing, inches his way towards the ice, hands shaking slightly.

"it's okay," ben murmurs gently, taking joe's hands in his own and slowly pulling him out onto the ice. frozen, joe's unable to do anything apart from let ben pull him around. ben slowly skates backwards, effortlessly moving as all his concentration is devoted to joe. "it's fun, see?"

"yes," joe gasps, as they turn a corner. the brunette feels like he's going to fall over sometime soon.

"you're doing so well, joe," ben says, lips almost too close to his ear. ben's arm snakes around his waist, hauling him up and keeping his body perpendicular to the ground.

"i'm going to fall," joe says when his skates slide around underneath him, legs wobbling and sliding akimbo.

ben laughs. "you're fine."

*

joe arrives at french class ten minutes late. his teacher purses her lips. "and where have you been, mr. mazzello?" she questions in her thick accent, bringing out the attendance booklet.

joe quivers, slinging his rucksack over his shoulders. "i'm sorry i'm late, mrs mercier." his feet  _hurt_. "i lost track of time."

"don't be late again," she says shortly, ticking his name off in the register. "mr. hardy is late too, but that's to be expected. you don't know where he is, so you?"

joe swallows. he didn't know ben took french. gwilym and rami look up at him with expecting eyes.

"i don't, ma'am," he lies.

he sits down next to them, bringing out his file and notes, before turning to his friends. "i got held up by ben," he admits.  _it's not a lie._

"you should've sat with us at the ice hockey game," rami says sympathetically, while gwilym looks a bit sick. "we could've stuck together."

"i guess so," joe replies, trying his best to look emotionally scarred by his break-time with ben. his feet throb uncomfortably underneath the table. he doesn't know how ben manages to do it.

"i'm glad you've started taking french with us, though," rami says. "you'll get to come on a school trip."

"and joe's a smarty-pants so he can give us the answers," gwilym pipes up with a grin. joe rolls his eyes and clicks the top of his biro. he hopes he'll pass french, as he needs another language on his application for college.

ben walks into french twenty minutes from the end of the class, completely unbothered by mrs mercier's horrified expression as the door almost swings off its hinges. he sits down in a seat at the back, solitary but not alone. joe doesn't understand how he always looks so carefree.

"mr hardy," mrs mercier says, walking over to his seat. "you're forty minutes late."

ben chuckles a little, leaning back in his chair to look her dead in the eye. "i honestly don't give a fuck."

joe knows that ben's an asshole, as he's heard it from several people, but he's never seen him be rude firsthand to somebody before, and it's almost shocking. he turns back around in his chair to appear as unnoticeable as he can.

"you should care about your grades," she argues back, but ben just laughs.

"my grades?" he questions with a deranged smile. "i never get any help with any of my fucking classes, and i'm expected to have high grades? i'm juggling two lifestyles here."

"he's always like this when he's late," rami says with an eye-roll. "but nobody wants to tutor him."

joe exhales. he almost feels bad.  _he can't._

"maybe if you didn't prat around like you built the school then people would want to help you," she spits before returning to her seat to finish the class exercise.

"didn't know you took french, mazzello," ben hisses from behind him a few moments later. joe doesn't reply, instead choosing to block out the blonde boy until the end of classes.

"don't forget," mrs mercier calls as they're filing out of class. "the applications for the paris trip are still open. it's five nights and six days in the city of love."

ben grabs him by the arm as he files out, yanking him sideways so they're at the edge of the sidewalk, isolated from the rest of the crowd.

"tutor me," the bigger boy says, jaw tight. "i need the grades."

"i-i'm tutoring so many people right now," joe says, eyes tearing up from ben's death grip on his wrist. "my wrist, ben."

ben realises he's gripping onto joe a little too hard. eyes softening, he releases his hand from his wrist. "please, joe. if i don't pass these exams then my career is over."

"i'll think about it," joe says, shuffling his feet.

before the younger boy starts to turn away, ben takes his skinny wrist and presses his lips once to the pulse point. "i didn't mean to hurt you," he says gently.

the place where ben kissed him burns all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yall hope you enjoyed


	7. Chapter 7

"that's pretty much all you need to know," joe explains, closing the exam paper. "just switch signs when you switch sides of the equation."

"okay," says his tutee, standing up from joe's kitchen worktop to retrieve his wallet from the pocket of his jacket. "seven dollars you charge, wasn't it?"

joe nods. "yes, seven."

the guy gives him a smile, quirking his lip. "i still think you should charge more. you're really good at this. i've learned more with you than i have all year with mrs matthews."

"i just do what i have to do," joe says. "i guess i like helping people."

"it's very sweet of you, joe," the guy replies. "you must have a queue of people begging you to tutor them." he hands him the seven, loose coins cold in joe's palm.

"twenty people as it stands," joe replies, pushing the money into his back pocket.

"well, thank you for helping me," says the guy, walking towards joe's door. "same time next week?"

joe nods. "might have to push you forward half an hour as josie carter wants an hour and a half instead."

"okay, that's fine."

"do you have a ride or something?" joe says, opening the door for the guy to exit. "i'm kinda far out of town."

"i'm waiting on my mate, actually," the guy says. "said he'd be here in a second."

"ah, right," joe replies.

"do you walk to school every day?" the latter questions, leaning against the exterior of joe's house. "must be quite a trek."

"cycle, usually," joe replies. "got an old bike that used to be my dad's out the back."

the guy nods, head falling to his feet. "i'm still sorry about your dad."

"that's okay," joe comments, fiddling with a biro. "i guess it's good to talk about it sometimes. can't keep it closed up forever."

"definitely," he replies. "you can talk about it to me whenever, you know?"

"thank you," joe answers, "i appreciate you."

their conversation is interrupted when, what is presumably his tutee's ride, makes an appearance. it's almost aggressive as, through the gaps in the trees, joe can see an old red convertible speed its way down the lane towards his house.

"that's my ride," the boy says proudly, walking down joe's front yard towards the pavement. the car squeaks to an abrupt halt just by his letterbox, engine purring. joe walks down the cut grass, squinting in the wintry sun as he picks his way through his mother's flowerbeds towards the car.

"i-is that a mustang?" joe calls. his heart then drops to his feet when he sees ben hardy in the driver's seat, smirking as he pulls a pair of ray-bans from his eyes.

"mazzello," the blonde says, snapping the sunglasses shut before turning in his seat to face the smaller boy, toned golden arm hanging over the edge of the window. "thought any more about my offer?"

joe swallows. "y-yes," he squeaks. "but i'm tutoring so many people it's hard to find a space to fit you in."

ben rolls his eyes, and joe and the tutee both watch him light up a cigarette before he replies. "god, joe, just tell a few of them they've got to look for a new tutor or something."

"in joe's defence, he is tutoring like twenty people," the other boy stutters, not looking ben in the eye.

"that's not my fucking problem, is it, george?" ben explodes, glowering with rage at the poor boy. "maybe i just want to pass my exams so i actually get a chance of having a career."

"i'm sorry," george replies, "i just think you should be a bit more sensitive."

"sensitive?" ben scoffs, looking from one to the other. "i wasn't aware you had any sort of dictation over my life."

"god, you're such a dick," george says with a scoff, picking up his rucksack from the ground and turning away from them both. "you know, i thought it would be fun for you to pick me up. turns out you're exactly what everybody says you are."

"yeah, that's right," ben says as george walks away from joe's house. "walk the fuck away."

"ben," joe says softly, not meeting his gaze with the blonde boy. "stop."

"get in," ben says, eyes flickering up to meet with joe's before gesturing to the empty leather seat.

"i didn't even know you had a car."

ben lets out a frustrated sigh around his cigarette. "this one is my dad's." ringlets of slate-grey smoke emerge from his pink lips before he turns the engine back on, deep hum resounding in joe's ears. "now get in."

"did you plan this on purpose?" joe questions, squinting as he climbs into the passenger seat, watching while ben puts his sunglasses back over his eyes.

"of course not," ben says as he pulls out from joe's front yard. the corner of his mouth quirks up. "i'm spontaneous."

the sun hits them like a summer's day, and joe finds his arm half out of the window, dragging in the wind as they pass house after house. joe turns to look at ben, the sun hitting him at just the right angle to reflect off the angular muscles of his jaw. joe's almost carefree as they drive under some low cherry blossom on the avenue, pale pink flowers fluttering onto his bare arms.

"i suppose you take everyone out in your beautiful car," joe says softly as they slow down in traffic, picking bits of blossom from his jeans.

ben laughs at this, changing gears so he can turn to look at joe in the passenger seat, eyes twinkling. "only people i like."

joe feels his cheeks heat up, and he turns his face away so ben can't see him pink and blushing. joe should know it doesn't mean anything, but hearing ben say anything nice to him sparks a peculiar warmth inside.

"did i make you blush?" ben says lowly as the lights change to green.

"no," joe replies quietly, attempting to force his features back into some sort of monotony, but failing.

"hm," ben says, turning onto a winding avenue and holding his cigarette out of the window.

"where are we going?" joe says after a few seconds.

"up to you, sweetheart," ben says, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he manoeuvres around a large truck.

"so you took me for a drive in your car without any idea of an end destination?" joe replies, smile still lingering on his lips.

"maybe," ben says inconspicuously. "where do you want to go then?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short i’ve been hecking busy recently


	8. Chapter 8

joe stirs his milkshake with the end of his straw, eyeing the blonde who's opposite him with, also, a milkshake.

"so, is george someone you're seeing?" the younger questions, taking a sip from his drink.

ben's eyes flicker up to meet with his. "god, no, he's my cousin." that must have explained the boy's unashamed way of calling ben out on his shit. "hate driving that spoiled little brat around."

"ahh," joe says in response, picking a chip from the bowl and eating the end. he's still nervous in ben's company, worried that he'll suddenly turn on him or expose something that he's told the blonde lad.

they end up doing biology, and joe draws a couple lines on some paper, resembling some sort of diagram. "so, you've heard of genetic crosses and punnett squares, right?" the younger asks, eyes meeting ben's, who looks back at him in confusion.

"the fuck is that?" ben asks confusedly. "i'm not gonna fucking pass bio, am i?"

joe quietly draws in a few letters to the punnett square. "an upper case letter resembles a dominant allele and a lower case letter resembles a recessive allele."

"this is so shit," ben adds, throwing down his pencil. "how do i get all this information in my fucking head?"

"it'll go in when you're least expecting it," joe says gently. "but if you concentrate for a second you'll be able to remember it."

"okay," ben says, swallowing. "okay, fine, fine."

"now, if the dominant allele for getting brown eyes is a capital B, this means that every square with a capital B in it will end up with brown eyes."

"what about the other ones then?" ben asks gruffly, gesturing at the fourth box.

"well, in this instance, the lower case b represents _blue_ eyes so any box with _bb_ will mean that they have blue eyes." joe then eyes ben, who's looking increasingly more confused with every piece of information joe relays.

"this is so fucking confusing, mazzello," ben says, leaning back in his seat and folding big arms over his chest. "i don't know how the fuck you remember all this boring shit."

joe closes his eyes for a second before reopening them and attempting to regain any sense of morality.  
"i usually listen in class."

"oh, yeah, i bet you do," ben laughs. "such a good little student, aren't you?"

joe's throat tightens but he laughs uncomfortably. "maybe you'd pass if you listened in class." he regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth because ben's face tenses up, lip curling intimidatingly.

"i listen in class, mazzello, it's just not fucking going in, is it?"

the anger in his face terrifies the younger.

joe's heart thuds beneath his chest. "y-yes, yes, i do understand that, ben. i'm sorry." ben's features slide back to their originality, and joe feels relieved. "i didn't mean to assume you didn't listen."

"it's alright," ben says, but his face is still simmering. "i just wanna get through all this shit."

just as joe's about to reply, there's a hand around his forearm and he's being yanked from the table, empty milkshake glass knocking noisily against the table. he turns around, and gwilym and rami are eyeing him worriedly, before turning to ben.

"can you fucking leave joe alone?" gwilym says, a surge of confidence running through him. "he doesn't want to be in your bloody game."

"a fellow brit," ben notes, eyeing the tall boy from his relaxed position in the booth. "thought we'd maybe have a little more respect for each other, brother."

"no, fuck respect when you pretend you're in love with my sister for months and completely ruin her life," gwilym bites, eyes simmering and glassy.

ben barks out a laugh, completely unfazed by it all as five other guys practically march into the diner, sliding into the seats next to him. "i wouldn't have called it pretending," he says, glancing towards the guy sitting by his arm like a lapdog. "nineteen was always supposed to be a good number and i fully took that into consideration."

rami scowls from behind joe's shoulder, not daring to say anything, but feeling angry nevertheless.

"well, joe's not some meaningless number," gwilym carries on, gripping joe's hand. "we don't care about your shag count or whatever it is you're tallying."

ben laughs again, and the entirety of the team start laughing too, because of course they've got to _respect their leader_ or whatever rules they follow in ice hockey. it's almost like ben has a gaggle of eager-to-please puppies running around behind his heels.  
"i suggest you leave before you do something you'll regret," ben announces, leaning back in his seat.

gwilym leans over the table, hands spread over the edge of the wood before hissing towards the blonde. "i wouldn't _ever_ regret punching you in the face but i have a little self respect."

he says this before he turns on his heel and leaves the diner, joe and rami following close behind.

"bye, mazzello!" ben calls just as they leave the restaurant, and joe's face _burns._

"are you okay?" gwilym says as soon as they're out of the premises. "did he hurt you?"

"no, i'm okay," joe responds, heart still pounding uneasily. "thanks for coming to rescue me." he pulls his jacket further up onto his shoulder, not realising it had slipped down during their brawl.

"anything for you," rami says. "nasty piece of work he is. _and_ his little squad."

joe feels sick. he doesn't know how to feel, as ben's so nice to him when they're together but shows himself up in front of other people. he doesn't want to be ben's fun little game. he saw how it ended for gwilym's sister.

*

"are you going?" rami says excitedly as he runs towards him from history class. "please tell me you're going." the dark haired boy twirls him around. "it's only two weeks until we leave."

"going where?" joe questions with a laugh, letting himself be swirled around by his best friend.

"paris!" rami exclaims as if it was so obvious. "it's going to be so romantic."

joe hasn't thought about it. it's been on the language teachers' lips for the past few months, but other than that he hasn't really spoken about it. hey, maybe he'll go.

"perhaps."

"you need to write your name down on the sheet, then," rami urges. "gwil's going too. if you don't go then you'll be alone and we won't be able to talk with you."

"am i supposed to be intimidated?" joe questions as they walk towards the noticeboard. "i can survive on my own."

rami rolls his eyes. "no you wouldn't."

gwilym and rami's names are already on the list, so joe reaches for the pen and scribbles down his own name at the bottom of the list, below theirs. maybe he'll enjoy this.

then a smirk grows on joe's face and he turns to face rami. "i don't believe it."

wh-"

"you're so funny!" joe shrieks. "lucy from drama is going so you feel like you _have_ to go!"

"wait, really?" gwilym pipes up with a snigger, reading across the board and, yes, _lucy boynton i_ s written in block letters.

"shut up, guys," rami says, shoving gwilym's shoulder. "i do want to hang out with you guys too, it would just be nice to spend time with her."

"so you're using us, huh?" gwilym says mock angrily, pretending to square up in rami's face, who laughs and shoves him off.

they're interrupted by the breeze of the ice hockey team walking through the door of the hallway into the same area as them, and they fall silent as ben hardy swaggers up to the noticeboard to add his name to the bottom of the list. the rest of the team follow suit, adding their names to the list until they're finished, and then ben hardy gives joe an upwards nod of acknowledgement, turns to the rest of the team and then swaggers away again.

"you've got to be kidding me,"  joe says once they've left, noticing the new side of the column of names, preceded with _ben hardy_ in surprisingly nice writing. _cole philips, william alexander, joshua stearns, louis hartman_ and _jason gray_ succeeds it.

"they're all _fucking_ going," gwilym says, running his finger over the names almost incredulously disbelieving that they're all going to ruin their holiday.

"how the hell do we enjoy our holiday now?" rami says in a whiny voice. "they'll just be in the background of every photo."

"i have no idea, but my mum needs me home to help her with something, so i'll text you guys later, alright?" joe says with finality, before heading off home.

his mother isn't happy to see him. "where have you been sneaking off to, after school?" she says accusingly, while hanging up a hand-towel. "i could've done with your help around the house."

"i'm sorry, mom," he admits. "me and gwilym and rami have just been at benny's burgers for longer recently." he shuffles, and maybe she knows he's lying.

"if you've been hanging out with _that_ group of lads then you'll be sorry, joseph," she says, pointing with her oven glove.

"what group of boys?"

his mother rolls her eyes. "you know what i mean. the ones in that hockey team. especially the blonde one - i don't want you with him."

"i don't talk to them, mom," joe lies through his teeth. "i don't mix with people like that."

"he's a horrible boy," she continues. "always with a new girl. i heard that his father was the same."

"well, if you're just going to lecture me then i'm going to study in my room," joe says with a sigh, before leaving the room.

*

there's a knock on his window at ten minutes past ten, and joe turns in his seat, a shiver rising over his arms from the coolness of his room.

ben hardy crouches at his window, wearing nothing but jeans and boots. it's march. joe feels a tick in the side of his neck before he's walking towards the window and unlatching it.

ben hardy smirks at him, moon reflecting on the side of his face.

"how do you know where i live?" joe asks in awe, opening the window for ben to hop in. once they're in the room together, joe shuts the window and the silence is deafening.

"i asked around," ben replies, sitting down on the edge of joe's bed before bouncing up and down lightly. "so this is where the magic happens."

joe raises his eyebrows. "i wouldn't say that," he comments softly.

ben's eyes languidly catch his. "so that means you're a virgin, then."

joe laughs in the most non-virginal way he can muster, before firmly saying, "no."

"so, you've had a shag before," ben says, bare golden arm way too close to his own.

he gulps. "yes."

"you're awfully nervous to admit that," ben replies, leaning back on his bed and crossing his jean-clad legs. "you're not lying to me, are you mazzello?"

"i haven't gone _all_ the way," joe says after a pause. "but you mustn't tell anybody."

"oh, i won't tell anyone, swear," ben says, eyes glimmering. he holds out his pinky finger and interlocks it with joe's.

there's a comfortable silence, and joe finds himself pressed up against ben's bare side, skin warm and smooth. "so i saw you're coming to paris," joe says quietly, watching the dirty beige of his ceiling.

"yeah, i am," the blonde comments. "thought it might be fun to hang out in the _city of love_ for a few days."

"me too," the smaller boy adds. "i haven't ever left the country."

"sorry for the other day in the diner, by the way," ben adds. "i wouldn't have acted so harsh if your little friends didn't come at me for no reason."

"i didn't realise they were coming to get me," joe whispers. "my fault." the open window casts breaths of air over joe's arms, and he shivers.

"don't worry about it," ben says. "do you want to sit on the roof?"

"the roof?" joe questions. "you can sit up there?"

ben lets out a laugh. "of course you can, sweetheart. that's how i got up here."

joe's cheeks redden at the nickname, and humiliation pools in his face. ben should _not_ call him _sweetheart._

ben helps him up onto the roof, big strong arms encasing him as he steps out into the wind. the moon is their only light source. "it's too high up here," joe says, voice wavering.

they sit next to each other on the roof, and that's when joe notices the can of beer in ben's hand.

"are you drunk?" joe questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"no, love," ben says, handing the latter the can. "you wanna try some?"

"my mom would kill me if she knew i was drinking beer," joe says as he takes a sip of the brownish liquid. screwing up his face at the taste, he turns back to ben, holding out the can. "that's not very nice."

ben hardy chuckles, taking a swig himself before pushing it back into the smaller boy's hands. "drink some more. you'll like it in a second."

joe eyes ben the whole time, and he feels tingly in his stomach when he's taken a huge sip, grinning at the bigger boy. "my mom would also kill me if she knew i was hanging out here on the roof, with you."

the latter laughs, moon casting shadows over his face and that's the moment joe becomes enraptured. "i've heard _that_ exact line before."

"i guess people's moms are scared of you," joe breathes, hiccuping slightly at the euphoria of the drink.

ben takes the can from him. "you're a little lightweight, aren't you?"

"i guess so," joe sighs, giggling and sliding down so he's lying on his back. "do you wanna play truths?"

"truths?" ben asks amusedly. "the one where you expose yourself willingly?"

"mhm," is the muffled reply.

"well, alright," ben says, pulling joe up to sit back next to him. he starts mild. "have you ever dated somebody?"

"no," joe giggles. "it's because nobody wants to date me."

"that's really not true," ben breathes.

"do you know anybody who does?" joe says, smothering his face with the sleeves of his sweater. "i'll be a good boyfriend."

"i'll ask around for you," ben says, sipping more of the beer. "your question."

joe thinks for a while, exaggeratedly covering his face before asking. "have you ever, um, lied to your parents?"

"i'm constantly lying to them, joe," ben says with a grimace, swallowing it down with beer. "i'm telling them every day that i'm becoming an ice hockey teacher instead of training for bigger and better competitions."

"don't they support you?" joe asks, eyes sad.

"i guess not," ben replies. "but i just take it every day as it comes."

joe doesn't know what to say, settling for a small pat on the shoulder before he takes the beer from ben's hand and swigs some down. "your question."

"okay," ben says, smiling a little before turning to face the shyer boy. "where's the most sensitive place for you to get a hickey?"

joe looks confused for a second. "i- i wouldn't know. nobody has ever given me one."

"really?" ben says this softly. "and who do you think will give you your first hickey?"

"hopefully someone who's nice to me," joe says quietly, hoping that his breath doesn't make a sound.

ben then leans over, breath fanning against joe's ear and neck before he's pressing his lips tenderly to the smooth milky skin there. he opens his mouth a little and there's a suction that feels nice against his jaw before it's as quick as it started and ben's back in his position next to him on the roof, smirking and still shirtless.

"and what do you think your mum would say about that?" he says with finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WIG


	9. Chapter 9

"what, and i'm supposed to just believe that you've just developed an interest in turtleneck sweaters?" rami says, scrabbling at joe's neck, who holds the neck of his sweater close to him in an attempt to keep the hickey covered.

"yes!" joe defends, trying to push rami away from him, but to no avail as the darker haired of the two finally yanks joe's sweater down, exposing the wine red stain at joe's neck.

"i knew it!" rami says, dancing around him manically. "you were acting so suspicious!"

"what's going on?" says gwilym with a smile, appearing from the other side of the corridor with his books under one arm. rami gesticulates towards the offending hickey, grin stretching over his face.

"joe's had his innocence taken from him," rami says, showing gwilym the area of joe's neck. "we're trying to work out who he's fucked."

"nobody!" joe protests. "i burned myself!"

gwilym laughs. "yeah, of course you fucking did." the two start sniggering childishly. "what did you burn yourself on? the _strangely high oven_?"

"shut up!" joe objects. "we- we didn't have sex."

"he admits it!" rami shrieks. "who was it?"

they prat about like idiots while joe watches them crossly. "nobody."

"okay, okay," gwilym says, laying a hand on joe's arm. "girl or boy?"

joe thinks for a moment, before licking dry lips and turning back to his friends. "girl."

"i get a tenner, then," gwilym says, bursting out laughing at rami's shocked reaction.

"you bet on me?" joe questions furiously, punching them both in the arm.

they look at each other. "uh, we may have thought you were gay," rami says, before gwilym slaps him in the arm.

"there is no _we_ in this narrative," gwilym says, rolling his eyes. "it was all rami. i believed you didn't label."

joe's heart thunders. was he that obvious? did he have stereotypical gay characteristics? did he do _the voice?_

"i'm not gay, so," joe says finally, pulling his rucksack further over his shoulder, just as he notices ben at the end of the corridor, talking to two of the guys from the team. he's wearing a faded denim jacket and tight black jeans, and joe's chest does a thing. _not gay. right._

"that's okay," rami says. "even if you were, we wouldn't care."

"thanks," joe mumbles, as ben and his team begin to walk towards the end of the corridor, ben looking less than impressed. he even looks a little touchy, as one of the lads says something and he rolls his eyes, walking a little ahead of them.

as they walk past them, ben glances towards joe but doesn't acknowledge the smaller boy as they stride past. joe's heart sinks a little and he almost scoffs at himself for letting himself be disappointed. _god, he's an idiot._

_*_

in music class, they're divided into groups, and joe finds himself in a group with three other people he's never spoken to before, while gwilym and rami are still together but with two other people in their group. joe gives them a bored look and they reciprocate.

"joseph, would you mind getting me some paperwork from the printer, please?" the teacher says, laying a hand on his shoulder. she must have noticed joe's bored reaction. "it's just inside the office and the receptionist should get it for you."

joe obliges, because he's a good student, and troops his way down towards the office, teacher's lanyard, with the printing barcode on, swinging from his fingertips.

as he turns into the office, he's suddenly aware of ben hardy lying stretched out across three of the seats used for visitors, phone up to his ear and bored expression on his face. as joe walks into the office, he hangs up the phone, looking at joe with a quirked lip.

"hi, mazzello," he says with a deranged look in his eye. joe's concerned, but he doesn't dare ask.

"h-hi, ben," the shyer boy says, suddenly intimidated by his presence. he turns to the receptionist, who takes the lanyard and fetches the printing for him. while he's waiting, he turns back to ben. "why are you here?" he says this softly, as not to cause ben to blow up at him.

"its a long fucking story, joe," ben says gruffly, sitting up in his seat, causing one of the receptionists behind the glass to eye him warily.

"the printer takes ages to print," joe whispers. "i have time."

"principal thinks i'm spending too much time at the rink instead of studying so he calls me in his office," ben says. "right?"

joe nods, and ben continues. "so he tells me that i should limit hockey to once a day, and after school only."

"oh," joe breathes out softly, unsure of how to act around the bigger boy. "i'm sorry."

"i got a bit fucking mad," ben proceeds. "and i kicked his desk over."

"what?" joe squeaks, in shock. "are you in isolation now?"

ben looks up at him, light green eyes still unblinkingly pure, when his personality conveys the contrary. "they're ringing my dad. he'll do fuck all."

"joseph?" calls the receptionist, brandishing a wad of papers at him. "your printing." joe takes the printing graciously, before walking back over to ben, who's eyeing him.

"do you want to study then?" joe says tentatively. "tonight?"

"i don't think i can, love," ben says, grimacing. "my dad will think i'm having a shag."

joe blushes a fiery red at the image in his mind. "but you won't be."

ben quirks an eyebrow at him. "my dad's hard to convince. he'll see a pretty thing like you and jump to conclusions."

"i'm not _pretty_ ," joe defends, face burning. ben laughs at him.

"don't lie to yourself."

"i'm telling the truth," joe defends obstinately. the paper crumples slightly beneath his fingers.

"you're a liar, mazzello," ben says, leaning back in his seat. "haven't you got printing to deliver?"

"yes," joe says, swallowing. "it can wait, though."

ben chuckles, stretching long legs against one of the filing cabinets, and the receptionist looks at him in horror. "look at you, being all rebellious, just so you can talk to me."

joe, red in the face, stares at the floor. "that's not-"

"i know," ben says. "i guess you'd better get to class, pretty."

the receptionist is eyeing them both now, so joe scarpers immediately with the papers, not even looking back, as to not become a permanent beetroot.

*

"i thought you said you couldn't come," joe says furiously, opening his bedroom window and allowing the cool night air to blow against his arms. ben grins at him, beckoning him up to the roof of his house where he's waiting.

"my dad's fucking furious," the blond says once they're both sat on the edge of the roof, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. "said he expected more from me as i was training to become an ice hockey coach."

"oh, i'm sorry to hear that," joe breathes, eyeing the bigger boy in awe as he lights his cigarette between his lips.

"nearly fucking told him i didn't want to be a coach but i couldn't be arsed for his anger so i took off," ben says, scoffing and taking a long drag of his cigarette.

"is he looking for you now?" joe questions worriedly, peering down the dark avenue as if ben's father is going to materialise out of thin air.

ben laughs. "nah, he's a lazy old git. probably would've given up after ten minutes."

there's a comfortable silence, and joe crosses his legs, watching ben who's wistfully peering at the horizon, cigarette clamped between his lips.

joe almost feels a bit giddy when he thinks about the fact that ben came straight to his house and nobody else's, but then his brain tells him he's being stupid. he guesses he's lucky, as out of all the people at school, ben's on his roof, and not some pretty girl's.

"did you cover it?" ben says after a while.

"cover what?" joe questions stupidly, but then ben's pulling the neck of his sweater down, exposing the dark wine coloured mark.

"i did an alright job, didn't i?" ben murmurs, pressing his thumb against the still tender hickey. "you would never be able to hide that."

joe quivers at the feeling. "that's why i wore a turtleneck at school." ben's hand is warm against his neck.

ben raises his eyebrows. "but your friends saw anyway, didn't they?" he stretches his legs out so his feet hang over the edge of the roof, into the gutter. there's no warmth on his neck anymore.

 _how the fuck did he know?_ ben was down the corridor at that point, talking to his mates. "yes, they did-"

"and did they ask if it was me?" ben says, hiking one long leg up to his chest. a cloud of smoke breezes into joe's space.

"n-no, actually," joe replies. "i- they're under the impression that it was a girl."

ben laughs again, eyes crinkling and joe almost feels a little proud of himself for making ben hardy laugh, but then he realises that he's probably laughing _at_ him rather than _with_ him.

"a girl?" ben says. "they think some random girl can give you a hickey that good?" ben's tongue wets his bottom lip and he eyes the mark on joe's neck, causing the smaller boy to burn red.

"i- i'm-" joe stutters.

"i'm right," ben says. "i'm always right."

joe scoffs. "so if ask you a question on ionic compounds, you'll answer it correctly?"

ben raises his eyebrows at him, turning towards joe with his cigarette suspended between his lips. "you're a bit bloody cheeky, aren't you?"

"i know," joe replies, face glowing.

"didn't think a shy little thing like you could be so lippy." ben pulls his legs up to his chest and stands up, reaching his hand out to joe. "do you want to come and hang out around town with me?"

joe stumbles to his feet, almost knocking into ben's chest. "i don't know. it's half ten, and my mom will be so mad when she finds out-"

ben rolls his eyes. "fuck her. do what you want."

joe grimaces, but ben's already leaping off the roof onto the edge of his mother's old summerhouse, before using it as a segue to jump down onto the uncut grass. he looks up at joe, who's shivering on the roof. "you better be fucking coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if u liked , it really helps me when writing future chapters :)


	10. Chapter 10

the light's on in the porch when joe gets back home, stumbling over the long grass and giggling to himself. his mother stands, arms folded in the door as he attempts to walk up the few steps, stumbling before he reaches her.

"hi, mom," joe slurs, smile unfaltering on his face. she shakes her head, grabbing his arm and yanking him inside the door, before turning to face him with anger written all over her face.

"where the hell have you been?" she says, lips pursing. "you- you smell like cigarettes and beer!"

joe's not deterred, and he turns to face her. the fridge whirs behind them, and joe sighs happily. the house is quiet. "i had a nice time." his eyes shine.

"oh, i bet you did," his mother scoffs. "with hereford ice hockey team, didn't you?"

"not necessarily," joe mumbles, rubbing his sleeves over his sleepy eyes. he looks up at his mother, whose eyes resemble his own with decades between.

"go to sleep," she says, turning away from him so she can pour herself another glass of wine. "we'll talk in the morning."

joe pauses, heart thumping unnaturally before he turns away towards the stairs, brain fizzing over.  
there's stars at the edge of his vision. ben's on his mind. _again_.

joe thinks about how ben had turned to him and handed him a can of corona, cold beneath his fingertips as he accepted, already feeling the effects of the vodka he'd downed before. the rest of the team were there too, lounging on the grass with packs of marlboros at their feet. they'd found a deserted park somewhere, and joe had foolishly trotted along behind them, head spinning from the vodka. joe had sat curled under ben's arm as the spring night grew colder and his intoxicated state grew deeper.

 _"he's so whipped for you,"_ one of the lads had said as joe drifted in and out of sleep. joe remembers his name as joshua stearns, the right defence.

 _"they always are, with ben,"_ another one had chuckled. _"throw us the lighter, josh."_

ben had laughed, arm tightening around joe's sleeping shoulders. " _is twenty one supposed to be lucky?_ " his voice rumbled against joe's side.

_is twenty one supposed to be lucky?_

joe's eyes snap open in the dark. his breath is laboured, and his hand reaches across for the switch on his bedside lamp, which fills the room with comforting light.

twenty one? why was it on his mind?

_*_

joe's walking past the principal's office when the door swings open and ben strides out, face sour and barely giving the smaller boy any acknowledgement before he's turned the corner and disappeared in another hallway.

joe doesn't see ben again until french class. he's ten minutes late, swinging the hinge of the door as he enters. joe keeps his eyes trained on the table or the presence of rami and gwilym on either side of him.

"late again, mr. hardy," mrs. mercier says with a sigh.

"yeah," ben scowls, sliding into his usual chair behind joe.

"you're going to paris, aren't you, ben?" she says, looking up from her computer. "you won't be able to be late on the day or you'll miss the flight."

"you don't say," ben comments, stretching his legs out under the table. "i'll make sure i'm on time for you, miss."

"thank you, mr. hardy," mrs. mercier says tiredly before handing out some cards to everyone in class. "i'd like you all to practice your conversational skills as we'll be talking to lots of people during our trip."

joe's head pounds from his hangover.

gwilym's complaining next to him because he hates speaking french aloud, and rami's got a scowl on his face anyway because lucy didn't acknowledge him in the hallway this morning.

"can you all turn around and practice the conversations i've just handed out with the student behind you, please?" she says, gesticulating in the french manner that they were all so used to.

gwilym stops complaining for a second, turning to joe as if he himself could also feel the smaller boy's heart racing underneath his jumper.

"guess we're partners, mazzello," ben says from behind them with his lip quirked amusedly. "is that alright with you?" he leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.

"yes," joe murmurs quietly, while gwilym looks at him nervously. he leans over, resting his hand on joe's shoulder.

"we can swap if you want," the taller hisses to him. "i don't mind doing the conversation with him if he makes you uncomfortable."

"joe's fine with hanging out with me, aren't you?" ben interrupts with a smile. anger flushes over gwilym's face, who turns back to joe furiously.

"just tell me if he upsets you, okay?" gwilym rubs joe's shoulder comfortingly before turning to face his partner.

"hi," ben says when joe finally plucks up the courage to turn around in his seat. "hangover bad?"

joe shuffles the paper cards in his hand. "why- why  did you let me drink so much when you know i'm a lightweight?" his heart races as he anticipates an answer. he almost regrets asking.

ben looks up at him from where he's also shuffling his cards. "well, you've got to bloody start somewhere, haven't you?"

"my mom's mad at me," joe grits his teeth and tries to stop his eyes tearing up pathetically. "mad at you."

"oh, fuck off, joe," ben scoffs. "nobody was forcing you to hang out with us."

joe's stumped for anything to say in response, tearfully flicking through the conversation starters. his eyes mist up as he finds a card. "pouvez-vous m'aider?" he finally reads in a tiny voice, throat tight.

ben eyes him before answering joe's question in a perfect french accent. "oui, bien sûr."

"où est un restaurant?" joe mumbles, hurriedly brushing a tear away as it begins to drip down his reddening cheeks. he's embarrassed - he doesn't want ben to see him crying.

however ben catches joe's eye before he can dry his eyes completely, and his eyes soften considerably. then ben leans forward, and joe's heart flips as the blond boy ever so gently brushes the tears from joe's cheeks with surprisingly soft fingers. "ne pleure pas, ange."

joe's frozen. "i- i don't know what that means," he whispers. he hopes ben isn't saying mean things about him in french.

"it doesn't matter," ben says in response. "le restaurant est à gauche."

"merci de m'aider," joe replies, pulling his sleeves up over his hands, which he often finds himself doing when he's nervous.

"de rien, chérie," ben says with his award winning smile. joe reckons that ben must practice it in the mirror as it's so perfect, and he feels himself falling deeper into a hole he can't escape from.

"i-i don't understand why you're so confusing," joe says as ben decides on a new conversation starter. ben's hazy green eyes flick up to meet with his.

"i've got to keep you on your toes."

joe doesn't meet ben's eyes again, because he thinks that if he does, he'll become transfixed by the focused look in his eye. god, he's an idiot - completely aware of what's happening and not actively doing anything to stop it. a complete idiot.

*

ellen's humming to herself while she sorts the skates in order of size. her earphones dangle out of her ears and she looks completely at ease. joe almost feels bad to interrupt her, but he needs her to know.

she's the epitome of ben; same golden skin and pink lips, but her hair's curly and she's got it tied up in a ponytail. when joe reaches the front desk, she turns to face him, eyes brightening once she recognises his face.

"joe!" she says, immediately leaning over the counter to hug him. "i haven't seen you down here in ages."

"i'm sorry," joe replies. "i've been meaning to come down, but...uh, obviously ben practises here and sometimes i can't deal with him."

"i can never deal with him," ellen laughs, untangling the laces on some skates. "he's such a little bitch." she has so much of ben in her eyes that it's weird to hear her talking shit about someone who's identical to her.

"i- i think i need your help, actually," joe says with a grimace. ellen looks up from her untangling. "he confuses me so much and i never know how to feel around him."

"he does that to all the girls he fucks," ellen says gravely. "you're the first to come to me, however."

"i just thought you'd be the one to- to know him the best," joe tries to explain earnestly. "i'm sorry if i've bothered you in any way."

ellen laughs, exposing her perfectly straight, even teeth. "oh, you haven't bothered me at all. it's just poignant that you're the only one who's ever tried to understand him."

"i- is it?" joe stutters, feeling like an idiot.

"yeah," she replies. "you deserve better than him. i'll admit that i love him, but he's a fucking prick."

joe laughs because it's true, as ben made him cry in french class. but maybe he's just a wuss.

"i mean it when i say that you deserve somebody better," ellen says, putting away another pair of skates. "he does not deserve your pretty face."

joe looks down at the floor because maybe ellen is right. she's grown up with ben and knows him better than anybody. he'd be crazy to not take her advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey


	11. Chapter 11

joe's only just turned down the empty corridor to his art class when there's a hand yanking him back full throttle so he stumbles into a firm body. he turns after a beat too long, catching ben hardy's eye. joe's eyelashes flutter.

ben doesn't give him a chance to speak before he's yanking him into a nearby empty classroom, handling joe roughly as he shuts the door and leans against it, jaw ticking angrily. he takes a while to look up from the floor to where joe is leaning against one of the desks, watching the blonde haired of the two. when their eyes meet, joe's heart thuds in his chest and he can feel himself falling into the hole again. he's too deep now.

"why did you do it?" ben grits out lowly, and it's so unlike ben to be quiet when he's mad, usually overcome by anger and taking it out on everyone and everything around him.

"d-do what?" joe replies after a few seconds of gnawing on his lip. he's not sure what ben means. there's a lot of things that he's done that may be unjustifiable.

"you went and had a nice little chat with my sister yesterday, didn't you?" ben says, folding his arms. his eyebrows raise intimidatingly and joe has never felt so small in his life. "i guess i'm lucky that the other members of my team are so attentive."

"ben-" joe starts softly, flinching when he interrupts.

"also, ellen came into my room at home and actually told me that i'm confusing you too much," the bigger boy replies with a scoff. "she thinks i should leave you alone."

"she's nice to me," joe says thickly, trying to edge a word in. "i asked her for help because you aren't nice to me and i don't understand why you're so confusing!"

"you could've spoken to me," ben says with his teeth clenched. "why did you not think to speak to me?"

"i- i don't know, ben," joe says, picking up his rucksack which he slung to the ground. "i need to go. i don't want to talk to you anymore."

"great chats, mazzello," ben says, kicking his foot aggressively into one of the desks so it topples over, crashing against the floor, but joe's already halfway down the corridor, tears shining in his eyes. he hates ben when he's like this.

*

the french trip, being a week away, takes a toll on everybody going. there's forms to fill out, money to hand in and plane tickets to buy. joe's stressing as mrs. mercier put him in charge of collecting forms and money on his own, which means he has less time for packing and preparing.

gwilym and rami mostly accompany him to ask all of the people for their forms, but absolutely refuse to let him go when ben's name is the last on the list, staring up him with meaningful intent.

"i need to get his form," joe says, a pit in his stomach. "otherwise mrs. mercier will hate me the entire trip." his brain hates him for ignoring his friends' advice.

he's heard that ben's in the changing rooms at this time and joe begrudgingly walks down to the sports hall. there's laughter from that room and joe feels his chest plummet as he prepares himself to push open the door.

there's about twelve lads in there, the majority of them lacking shirts, and joe swallows as he peers around to find ben. about half of them he's seen before, as they hang out with ben, but the others aren't familiar. the door creaking causes them all to stop what they're doing and turn, judging him.

"can we help you?" one of them says. he looks unfamiliar to joe - red haired with coal grey eyes. he's at the forefront and looks joe up and down - clearly intrigued.

"um," joe says, stuttering and holding up his clipboard pathetically. "i'm collecting forms for the paris trip next week." he feels dumb as soon as he says it, as they all turn to look at each other with a smile on their faces.

" _he's collecting forms for the paris trip next week_ ," one of them mocks, causing joe's face to burn uncomfortably red.

"i'm not going," one of the unfamiliar lads says with a shrug, and a few others say the same. joe changes his weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly.

"who are you looking for, then?" the redhead says interestedly.

"um, well, ben hardy hasn't handed his form to me," joe says, not meeting the others' eyes. "i was wondering if you knew where he was."

they look at each other, and ben hardy then takes this as a chance to unknowingly walk out from the showers with his hair damp and skinny jeans clinging to his built frame.

"you've got a fan, hardy," the redhead says. "a pretty one, at that."

joe's stomach curls at this boy's crude manner. he doesn't want to be an object.

ben's eyes flicker to his own, but there's barely any visual acknowledgement. "hi, joe," he says, remnants of a smirk sliding onto his face.

"ah, so this is the famous joe," redhead says, eyeing him crudely again. "we've heard a lot about you."  
joe feels sick to his stomach, and ben must have noticed as his eyes soften slightly.

another one of the boys laughs. "his lucky number twenty-one," he says, throwing on a shirt. joe stiffens slightly. he's heard that number before. where has he heard it?

ben's jaw twitches. "what...what do you mean?" joe questions.

"isn't it obvious? you're just a goddamn numb-" says the boy before ben's straightening up, lip curling angrily before joe blinks and there's a punch. the boy's on the floor and ben's breathing heavily.

joe could be having some nightmare right now that he can't escape from.

"you're not in my fucking team," ben spits as the boy sits up, hand against his now bleeding nose. the ice hockey team are smug, pulling shirts over their heads while the other six, including the redhead, are dead silent. "we're not mates. don't fucking talk about shit that doesn't involve you."

the bloodied boy stands up, wobbly on his feet before pressing his finger into ben's chest. "you're an asshole."

ben's unbothered, smirking slightly. "i've heard that one before." looking down at where joe's quivering beside him, he takes his small, soft hand in his own and marches out of the changing rooms.

joe's teary-eyed when ben turns to face him.

"why did you do that?" joe says, lip wobbling. "you shouldn't hit people!"

"he's said horrible things about you, sweetheart," ben says, squeezing both of joe's hands. "today was just the last straw."

joe yanks his hands from ben's grip, turning the right one over so he can inspect his knuckles. they're  bloody, and joe almost feels sick. "does your hand hurt?" he questions in considerably softer tone. ben looks down at joe's earnest expression.

"not massively."

nevertheless, five minutes later, joe's pressing a damp flannel to ben's hand and snivelling. he still can't believe he had to witness ben punching a guy and he's still not over it.

"i'm still mad at you," joe says as he finishes cleaning ben's hand. "don't think for a second that i'm not."

ben laughs at this. "i know, love." his eyes are unblinkingly green in this light, and joe finds himself transfixed for a second before his mind shutters back to reality.

"ben?" joe questions after a few seconds, voice soft out of the silence.

"mhm?" ben replies, eyes darting to the smaller boy in front of him.

"does twenty one mean that i'm just a number to you?" he says this, voice wobbling. joe won't believe it. he can't believe it.

ben's jaw ticks. "you're not a number to me." the way he says it, it's could have been believable. ben hardy's a master manipulator.

"i- i just don't want to be a part of your shag count," joe says, eyes glassy.

"i don't know anything about that, love," ben says, hand resting against joe's smooth bare arm. "please don't worry."

joe goes home with  _"please don't worry,"_ ringing in his ears, but that night, something else drifts him to sleep. " _is twenty one supposed to be lucky?"_ soundtracks his dreams, and he doesn't know why, yet again, he wakes up with it on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading so far! im honestly eternally grateful for every comment that i get on this fic. it makes me so excited to wake up and have my notifs full of people enjoying my story . i value and reply to every comment, so please do leave them because it really helps me when writing future chapters :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey

ben's fist is still bruised by monday. weekly presentation arrives like a storm and the ice hockey team are there to deliver the news on their recent successes, which means joe has to painstakingly endure their cockiness for a few more minutes than he'd anticipated.

ben's sat in the row adjacent to his own, buffered on either side by jason gray and louis hartman. joe notices the bruised purple-red of his knuckles and swallows a huge lump in his throat. ben had beat someone up and joe still wasn't okay with it. fiddling with his hands, the smaller boy turns his head back to the stage.

"thank you all for coming," the principal says. "i have plenty of news this morning but the first, which is very exciting, is that hereford ice hockey team have secured their place in the elite championships."

there's a round of applause before ben's standing and walking towards the stage with the other team members behind him. filing onto the stage, they're petrifying and joe squirms in his seat.

"it's great," ben says with his slow drawl against the microphone. "we're proud to be representing this school for a few months." joe scoffs, because he's  _so believable._ ben's hand wraps around the microphone and the bruises become prominent under the stage lights. "we hope you can support us."

his eye glimmers as he turns back to his team. the principal asks him a few more questions and he answers with unadulterated confidence, which seeps through his skin and radiates through him as if he's not some dickhead who fucks whoever's closest.

once the hockey team have sat back down, the principal continues on with announcing events and news.

"as you'll all be aware, the languages department are holding the yearly paris trip this sunday, and if you haven't already, then  _please_  do hand in your forms, otherwise you won't be allowed to go. i've heard from the french department that joseph mazzello is collecting forms so if you've got one then please do give it to him."

joe burns red as everybody cranes in their seats to see him, and he shrinks down as if to be inconspicuous. this is  _not_ what he signed up for.

*

"what do you mean?" mrs. mercier says with a glare. "the forms go to reception this afternoon."

joe's breath stutters worriedly. "i- i couldn't find ben hardy at all."

her nostrils flare. "well where do you think he'll be, stupid boy? have you ever spent a minute with him?"

"no," joe lies through his teeth, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands as a habit of nervousness. he doesn't want to look for ben after what happened the other day.

mrs. mercier, unamused, flaps some papers at him in a french manner. "well, can you go down to the rink and find him, please? i know you have a free period so there's no excuse for this."

joe , in bewilderment, nods at her frantically before leaving the classroom.

he arrives at the rink just short of three minutes later, years of running giving him good stamina. the tall fence disguises the expanse of compressed ice and joe ducks down into the bleachers so he doesn't have to face the scary-looking doormen. joe's short so he manages to wiggle out from underneath the bleachers into the stands. he exhales and scans over the vicinity in order to see if ben's there.

his eyes notice the blonde as he's pulling off his skate guards and talking to the rest of the team. joe sighs in relief.  _good. this means he doesn't have to look for him._

ben clocks him almost immediately as he walks down from the bleachers onto the area by the rink. the bigger boy's eyes meet his own, and his pink lips stretch into an amused smile. "joe," he acknowledges, causing the other teammates to turn around with equal amusement. "can i help you?"

"you can, actually," joe says with newfound confidence that leaps into his throat. "i didn't manage to get your form the other day, and you're actually the last one to hand it in to me."

ben raises an eyebrow. "ah," he says. "come with me."

joe swallows, confidence subsiding down his throat again as he troops behind ben like an idiot. the older boy has natural confidence to his walk, and as they walk towards the team rec room, lots of people along the way acknowledge him by nervously nodding or holding out a hand for him to slap.

"g-good luck on your match tomorrow, ben," one person stutters, but doesn't earn a reply as the blonde walks past.

ben shoulders the door into the rec room and joe nervously follows him into it. "this is where we get ready for the matches," ben says, rummaging in one of his bags until he produces a sheet of paper. it's pushed into joe's hands. "here you go."

"thanks," joe breathes. "is your hand feeling any better?"

ben peers down at his knuckles before shrugging. "it hasn't bothered me, love."

ben's eyes glimmer and suddenly the room's very big and they're very alone. "i'd better get back to class," joe says. "mrs. mercier wants your form."

ben scoffs. "such a teacher's pet," he murmurs. "come watch us practise for our game tomorrow."

"i'm not a teacher's pet," joe says. "i just don't want mrs. mercier to attack me when i-"

ben laughs. "cmon, babe, at least be our makeshift referee." ben nudges at his bicep, causing shivers to run up his arm. joe needs to stop being so responsive.

"ben, you need to stop," joe says, exhaling at the nickname. ben quirks an eyebrow at him.

"stop what?"

"you  _know_ what," joe says with his teeth gritted.

ben's hand wraps around his shoulders, a gesture easily interpreted as friendly but joe knew his motives were far from. "just referee our game for ten minutes and then you can go."

" _ben,"_ joe drags out with his teeth gritted, but then ben's throwing a lanyard into his hand, whistle dangling from one end.

ben's already out of the door, his aftershave lingering in the air like a ghost.

*

"so," someone says from by joe's side as he leans against the rail. "you're the famous joe mazzello."

joe turns his head to look at the person for a second, before turning back to keep an eye on the game. hereford isn't the only ice hockey team in the area, and they've gotten another team from somewhere in the next town to practise with them for tomorrow. joe's eyes watch as ben shoulders into louis hartman violently, causing him to fall to the ice with a resounding thump. "mhm. and you are?" joe mutters. the boy's familiar. joe's seen him on the team, but he's never been mentioned by ben before.

the guy next to him chuckles slightly. "so cynical," he teases, gripping onto the bar. "i'm william. right wing."

joe notices the scottish lilt in his voice, and it's refreshing to hear something different than the rude american drawl he's used to. "ben doesn't talk about you," joe replies quietly, blowing the whistle as louis hartman scores a goal. "blue centre!" he calls, and ben's blue-sweatered counterpart raises an eyebrow and gestures for the puck.

"he wouldn't," william says with a scoff. "i don't fit into his perfect little narrative."

joe blinks, turning around to face him. "what do you mean?"

william sighs. "i don't like the whole  _game_ he's got going on. i don't like to  _partake_  in it."

joe nods.

"i don't like that every person he puts his cock in is pretty much a scribbled tally on the wall of the changing rooms."

the smaller boy feels his heart rate pick up. he hopes to the heavens that it isn't true. he's spent ages defending ben to everyone who shit-talks him. he blows the whistle again as the other team scores a goal, causing the teams to tie for the moment. anger crosses ben's face for a few seconds and his lip curls angrily. he's heard that ben  _despises_  losing.

"ben, he..." joe starts. "he told me i wasn't a number, though."

william pulls a pack of marlboros from his pocket. he lights up a cigarette and clamps it between his lips. "huh. and you believe him?"

joe shrugs, fiddling with the lanyard as he watches the teams purposefully skate across the ice. "why aren't you playing, anyway?"

william laughs for a few seconds before gesturing at his wrist, which is bandaged tightly. "kinda fucked up my hand, haven't i?"

"oh no, that looks super painful," joe observes sympathetically. "how did you do that?"

william laughs at this, eyebrow raised. "your man had an angry outburst and took it out on me."

joe can't reply because there's angry shouts and joe's suddenly aware of the fact that he's just forgotten to whistle for a goal. his face burns in humiliation. ben hardy's skating towards them, anger simmering on his face.

"what the  _fuck_  was that?" ben says as he nears the two boys. "you missed our goal and now the other team are calling it a foul."

joe cowers at ben's harsh tone, gripping onto the whistle like it's his alibi. he's lucky that william's standing next to him and appearing to be on his side.

"hey," william says. "don't shout at him. it was my fault."

ben's jaw tightens considerably. "yeah, probably was your fault, come to think of it."

"alright, hardy, don't be a dick because joe doesn't  _want_  yours."

ben, anger fuelling in his veins, flickers his eyes to joe's, who consequently looks at the floor to avoid meeting his irate gaze.

"are you taking the piss, will?" ben seethes, leaning right up in william's space. "you better not be."

"don't forget you broke my fucking wrist, ben," the latter retorts. "now i can't play tomorrow and you're stuck with chesterman as your substitute right wing, who's petrified of you, and can't even take the fucking puck."

ben, in a fit of anger, yanks william forwards by his collar so they're almost nose to nose, separated by the rink's barrier. "you're so goddamn lucky that you're one of the best players on the team or i'd have dropped you ages ago."

"might have to drop me now, if my wrist ain't better in time," william shrugs. "i'll be glad to see the back of you and your disgusting morals."

"leave," ben says, voice dangerously low. "or i'll break your fucking spine."

william shakes his head before turning on his heel and leaving the rink. ben rolls his eyes once he's gone, meeting joe's gaze again.

"sorry about him," ben says throatily, rolling his eyes. "i didn't want you to witness that."

joe swallows, unsure of what to say. anger burns in his stomach but he's too afraid to confront ben. instead, he just breathes heavily and nods. "i'm gonna go."

"seriously?" ben says exasperatedly. "run after him if you fucking want, joe."

"maybe i will," joe says quietly, finally meeting ben's green-hazel gaze. he pulls the lanyard off from around his neck and holds it out to the blonde. "bye, ben."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave ur opinions on this pls ilysm
> 
> peace


	13. Chapter 13

sunday arrives like a whirlwind, and joe is not ready. it takes him about four hours to pack his suitcase as he's never packed one before, and never left his hometown. he knows he needs a night bag and clothes and pyjamas and travel books, but he doesn't know how to go about it. so when he finally zips up his suitcase, joe's feeling pretty proud of himself.

there's a knock on his door and he turns around sharply to look. his mother watches him with hesitant eyes.

"what's going on?" she says. "why are you packing a suitcase?"

joe sighs and turns to her with a firm lip. "i told you ages ago. the school's having a paris trip, and i decided to go."

"oh," she breathes, leaning against his door. "i didn't think you liked travelling abroad."

joe turns so he's facing her completely. "no, mom. that was  _you_."

she looks bewildered for a second before steeling her lip and sitting down beside him in the piles of clothes. she looks undeniably smaller than usual, and joe feels his heart pang in his chest. "i'm so proud of you, joe," she says, eyes unusually glassy. "you've joined a new school and now you're going off to paris on your own."

joe stiffens. "mom. i...i know you've been drinking again."

she shakes her head and runs a hand through the auburn waves that fall into his eyes. "stop being so negative! i'm just proud of you, joe. am i not allowed a glass of wine?"

"mom!" joe says, looking her in the eye. "i'm being serious. i'm worried about you." he grabs onto her arm so she turns to face him. "i don't like it when you're like this."

she laughs dementedly, shaking her head. "you're being silly, joe. what would your father have said?"

joe can feel himself shaking as he gets up to face her, lip trembling with anger.

 _she can't help it,_ the reasonable part of his brain says.  _she's drunk._

the room's eerily silent.

"mom," he says in barely a whisper, voice croaking. "mom, you should go to bed. i'll get you some water."

she puts up a fight for a few minutes before finally allowing joe to lead her to the king size bed that she used to share with his father.

"please get some rest," joe whispers, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "let me just get you some water."

he creeps into the dimly lit kitchen, and leans over the sink to pour her a glass of water. this is where he lets his tears fall, quiet sobs escaping him after what feels like forever. they're warm and wet over his cheeks and he brushes them away with the back of his hand as more fall. "she really needs you right now," joe whispers to the air. he hopes somebody hears him.

his mother's asleep when he comes back with the water, setting it on the bedside table alongside a note he'd scribbled a few moments before, reminding her that he'd set off to school for the paris trip. and that he loved her. a lot.

he closes the door slowly and grabs his suitcase from where it's lying on the ground, before getting his coat and leaving his house.

rami and gwilym beam at him from the bottom of his yard, but their smiles fade as they see joe's bleak expression. they dismount their bikes to hug him.

"what's wrong?" gwilym asks worriedly. "do you not want to go?"

joe shakes his head, climbing into his bike. "my mom's drinking again."

"oh god," rami says, eyes softening. "i'm so sorry to hear that." they wrap him in a huge hug. "do you still want to go?"

"yeah," joe sniffs, wobbling on his bike. "i just didn't expect it, that's all."

*

ben climbs onto the bus thirty seconds before they're about to leave, dressed in a black hoodie and black sweats with the rest of the team following behind. joe tries not to catch his eye, but fails as ben's eyes flicker to his own. he looks away with a huff. he doesn't like ben anymore.

joe's in a seat alone as rami and gwilym sit opposite, and he takes out his phone to send a text to his mom, and to let her know that he's thinking of her. he then looks out of the window and hopes that the journey to the airport isn't too long.

"can i sit here?"

william from the other day stands above him, gesturing at the seat. he's wearing skin-tight jeans and a white hoodie. joe's bag sits on the empty seat, and he blushes and puts the bag onto the floor.

"there's, like..." joe gestures at the rest of the bus, still pink in the face. "other seats."

william smirks at him. "well, maybe i don't wanna sit with them."

joe goes furiously red and turns away so the latter can't see how much he's blushing.  

ben's mouth is set in a firm line as he gets off the bus, jaw tight and teeth gritted. joe knows he's pissed off, and it brings him a small amount of joy to know that he's affected him in some way.

their plane doesn't leave for a good few hours, so mrs. mercier gives them all an emergency number and lets them roam around the terminal.

"do what you want, but don't buy any drugs or alcohol," she says to all of them, but joe knows who it's directed at. "i don't want to lose my job."

"of course not, miss," ben says from the back. "who do you think we are?" he folds his arms over his chest, green-hazel eyes a contrast against his black clothes. joe's breath catches in his throat but then his mind's pushing it back down.

_no, no, no. not today._ _ben has to stay out of his mind._

"i could take a good guess," she murmurs before waving them off.

joe wanders off by himself, shrugging off his jacket as the temperature of the airport catches up to him. he thinks about paris for a few seconds and what it might be like. however, he's interrupted, just as his metaphorical self is climbing the steps up to the eiffel tower, by a warm hand on his shoulder.

"will," joe acknowledges happily, allowing the taller boy's hand to rest on his shoulders.

"why are you off by yourself?" will says as they walk. "i thought you hung out with those two boys?"

"i..." joe says. "i don't know, really."

"are you alright, joe?" he's asking. "you seem spaced out today." will's arm seeps over his shoulder like honey.

"i, uh," joe says. "my mom - i think she's started drinking again."

" _oh,"_  will replies sadly, pulling the smaller boy into his chest. "i'm so sorry to hear that, joe."

"s'alright," joe mumbles. "do you wanna, like, wander around and get a drink?"

"sure," will replies as they walk towards a coffee shop near the edge of the terminal. it's a bit busy, but they join the queue nevertheless.

"do you, uh..." will says, meeting his eyes. "do you want to sit next to me on the plane?"

joe turns to him, sun shining in his eyes as a grin spreads across his face.  _he's happy_. "okay," he beams. "sure."

"great," will says. his eyes crinkle so joe guesses he's happy too.

"what can i get for you?" a girl behind the counter interrupts their conversation with a broad smile.

"oh," joe says. "i'll just have a mocha with chocolate sprinkles please." he blushes as he says the last part, and will must have noticed this as he chuckles lightly from his side.

"chocolate sprinkles, huh?" will murmurs in his ear with a smile. "cute." joe blushes harder.

"can i take a name?" she asks, looking back at one of her colleagues.

"uh, joe," the smaller boy says, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

will lays a hand on his shoulder. "it's alright, i'll get it." joe feels his heart race as will pushes his wallet back into his jeans pocket. he looks up at the taller boy and blushes at his kindness.

there's an awkward laugh from behind the counter, and one of the baristas hands him his drink, grinning. "turns out neither of you will have to pay," she says. "this one's been bought for you."

joe frowns. "what?" he takes the drink and gives it a once over. nothing is different.

"your man came here a few minutes ago and said you'd be ordering this," the barista says with a smile. "i think that's adorable."

"i- i don't have a man," joe stammers, gripping the cup tightly.  _fuck_.

"well," she laughs. "you should damn well make him your man. i don't even like blondes and he was gorgeous."

joe burns bright red in humiliation, wasting no time before turning around to walk out of the coffee shop, will walking behind angrily.

"i swear to  _fucking_  god," his taller accomplice says, catching up with him. "i knew he'd do something like that."

"will," joe says soothingly. "it's okay. i won't drink it. look." he goes to throw his mocha in a bin, but will stops him with a wave of his hand.

"no point throwing it away," will mutters. "it'll be a waste."

joe sighs, turning to will to grab his hands. "just ignore him, okay?" the smaller boy reassures. "he's just doing it to be irritating."

will laughs sarcastically at this. "it's funny," he says, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "ben's always got to be the one that 'wins', hasn't he? he's always got to come out on top."

"will..." joe tries again, placing a hand on the other boy's arm. "it's not serious. he does this all the time."

"yeah, well one day all these little kind acts are going to add up, and you're going to fall for him so deeply that you won't be able to get out," will grits out, seething with anger. "just like the other twenty people before you."

joe feels his lip tremble. "will,  _stop_."

"i'm just warning you," the scottish boy says. "don't fall in."

"i'm not  _going_  to fall in," joe says, cheeks reddening in frustration. "i know what he's doing. and i know what i'm doing."

"do you?" will says, and that's when joe realises that,  _no_. he has no idea what he's doing, and how the fuck he's about to get himself out of this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if you enjoyed :)


	14. Chapter 14

the plane takes off at one hundred and seventy miles per hour, which is so fast that joe feels like he's not moving at all. rami and gwilym are sat in the seats next to him, and he reaches out to grab their hands as the speed increases so much that joe's brain feels incapable of lucid thoughts. his teeth grit together as the plane lifting from the ground pulls him down into his seat like firm hands pushing him into the floor. he looks to the left of him, where will, joshua stearns and louis hartman are sat together, seemingly unbothered by the pressure of the cabin. maybe he's the only one troubled. at this point, will looks up from his magazine and catches joe's eye. the smaller boy raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment, but he's too late as will turns back to his reading.

he presses his face against the tiny rounded glass window; only a few inches between him and the vast emptiness of the atmosphere. his heart rate begins to calm as the plane directs itself into a steady cruise. the hum of the engine relaxes him and joe realises that he's going to be okay.

"i thought i was going to die," joe hisses to rami, who chuckles.

"see? you survived your first plane ride," gwilym tells him reassuringly. "everything is going to be onwards and upwards from here."

joe hopes.

*

joe gives gwilym a pitying look as the tall boy is ushered through a different part of security with ben hardy. ben, in all black, could not look any more intimidating standing with his eyes cast down to his mobile phone, lips set into an unemotional state.

"it's because they're both from  _england_ ," rami comments in a terrible, posh, english accent. "i feel so sorry for gwil."

joe watches as ben puts his passport down onto the desk where the border control officer is observing. the officer takes it and gives him a once over, before handing him back his passport and letting him through the gates.

*

"here's the hotel," mrs. mercier announces briskly, once they're all grouped outside the hotel. "you must go up to the reception desk and sign yourself in,  _in french please,_ and after that i will hand you your room keys."

joe thinks he manages quite well, as the receptionist gives him a broad smile as he walks away from the desk. his french has definitely improved in preparation for this trip.

mrs. mercier hands him a room key as he makes his way back over to her, and he looks down at the engraving in the key.  _three nine nine._

joe looks back up at where everyone is looking for their roommates, but he doesn't bother searching before he's making his way up the stairs towards his room.

"joe," someone hisses from down the corridor, and he turns to see rami and gwilym waving at him from the opposite side of the hallway. of course they got a room together. joe waves back before twisting the key inside the lock and shoving the door open.

it's a nice room, airy and white with two single beds separated by a coffee table. what makes it all the more interesting is that will turns around to face him from the big glass window, smile turned sour as soon as he notices the smaller boy.

"i knew they'd fucking pair us together," he mutters, pushing past the younger boy to get to his suitcase which is haphazardly strewn across the floor.

"seriously?" joe says in disbelief. "you're gonna be like this just because ben hardy bought me a coffee?"

will unzips his suitcase and begins to hang his clothes in the small wardrobe the hotel had provided. "no, joe," he says tiredly. "i'm being like this because i know you don't like me in the same way that i like you."

joe clenches his jaw. "are you crazy? i really like you, will." angry tears threaten to fall down his cheeks and he blinks furiously so they can't escape. "i can't believe you'd assume otherwise."

the taller boy stands up so he's at his full height, towering over joe. "it's just that ben makes everything so diff-"

"i don't care about him," joe says, voice softening considerably. "he's not nice to me.  _you_   _are_."

but joe's a fool and a liar, as when will impulsively leans down to press his lips against joe's, all that's running through his mind is what ben would think of him in that moment. ben's lips replace will's, and instead of will's hand resting at the bottom of his neck, it's ben's.

*

that night, joe wakes up thirsty. reaching for the glass by his bed, he gets up and walks towards the bathroom to refill his glass. joe hopes that will's still asleep. he's just about to enter the bathroom when he treads on something that crackles quietly underfoot. joe frowns before reaching down and seeing a bit of paper that's been slid under the door.

he moves into the light of the bathroom so he can read whatever's written on the paper.

_meet me in the arcade at 12. ben_

joe's barely read it before he's screwing up the note and launching it into the bin in the corner of the bathroom. he's almost angry as he stomps out of the bathroom into the bedroom where will's sleeping, reading the time on the digital clock by the bed.

_11:58._

he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. ben always does this to him. but what if he wants to apologise? maybe ben's finally come to his senses?

so joe feels like an idiot as he throws on a white shirt and sweats, then pads down the corridor, heart pounding. he regrets not putting a jumper on when he gets to the bottom of the stairs, as the cool air from a cracked-opened window blows over his bare arms.

he turns the corner to the hotel arcade, where the blue and pink lights reflect iridescently against the rest of the lobby.

"so you came."

joe spins around, nearly tripping on wobbly feet, to face ben, blonde hair messy and wearing a black t-shirt. the bigger boy gives him a grin and the coloured arcade lights reflect into his eyes. joe's transfixed for a second. "i guess."

ben walks around the smaller boy to lean up against one of the 2p machines. he reaches in his pocket and retrieves some loose change that jangles in his hand. "you want a go?" the blonde holds his hand out to joe.

joe hesitates for a second before he's saying  _fuck it_ and taking a 2p coin from ben's warm hand. "i'm bad at the penny falls."

the machine in front of them has a pretty necklace hanging precariously over the front of the machine, balanced on some 2p coins, and it appears that a slight movement of the coins would cause it to fall into the tray.

so joe takes a chance and inserts a coin into the machine, anticipating it'll push the little necklace off its perch and land it in the tray below, but as joe watches, the coin pathetically rolls and lands on the edge of the machine, too far away from the necklace.

"oh," he says disappointedly, tapping on the glass a little as if it would move the prize. it doesn't.

ben chuckles and moves next to him at the machine so their arms brush together. "i'm the master at arcade games," he says simply, inserting one coin and watching as the entire stack of coins moves forward an inch, the necklace sliding forward and nearly falling from its position

"how..." joe questions in disbelief, looking up at ben, who just raises an eyebrow at him. "do it again."

ben nods at this, taking another coin and pressing it into the machine at just the right time for it to hit the pile of coins in the centre, sending the necklace flying into the tray with a clatter, along with a whole heap of 2p coins that crash loudly against the echoing silence of the lobby.

"how the hell do you do that?" joe gasps as ben kneels to grab the prize from the tray. the blonde boy stands up to his full height with the necklace in his hand, holding it out to joe.

"i believe this is yours."

joe blinks. "but i didn't win it, ben, i..."

but ben's laughing at him, and before he knows it there's an unfamiliar coolness around his neck. "don't be silly, love." reaching up, joe feels for the circular pendant hanging over his collar ones. "it's yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait ! 
> 
> feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed ! feedback greatly helps me to write future chapters :)


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